“Of course,” I blurt, but it’s a little too forced.
Disappointment flashes across his face, and I feel like pond scum.
“Look,” I say defensively, “She wanted to come. I didn’t force her.” When he continues to give me a judgmental stare, I add, “My family knows we’re new, and they know she was alone.” I shrug, trying to convince him it’s not a big deal.
Or maybe I’m trying to convince myself.
He studies me, eyes sharp. “You’re full of shit.”
My heart slams into my ribs, but I force outrage. “What are you talking about?”
“Just like with those high-school kids I teach, I can always tell when you were up to something, and you’re definitely up to something now.”
My pulse hammers through my temple as he pins me down with that x-ray stare. It takes everything in me not to squirm and force a laugh. “You’re paranoid, man.”
“No,” he says carefully. “I don’t think I am.”
I take a swig of beer and nearly choke, trying to shove it past the lump of dread in my throat. The fact Curtis could always see through me is why I’ve kept my distance from him the past six years. Even if missing him felt like losing part of myself.
I was an idiot to forget it.
“You’re making too big a deal of this,” I grunt.
He lifts a brow. “Am I? You’re duping your family. They think she means something to you.”
“Like I said, it’s not a big deal.” I know he’s right, but I defend myself anyway. “I break up with girlfriends all the time. We’ll go home, and then in a couple of months I’ll just tell them we broke up and that’ll be the end of it.”
“Does she know that you’re using her?”
Shit. If he thinks this is bad, he’s really going to think I’m an asshole if he finds out I have an actual contract with my barista.
“I don’t have a great track record with women,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “Honestly, she’ll probably dump me, just like my last few girlfriends did.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re such a charming guy,” he says with a laugh, but there’s nothing sincere about it.
“Are you judging me?” I turn to fully face him.
“Dude, you need to judge yourself.” He finishes off his beer.
“I thought you, of all people, would understand,” I say. “Look at all the shit we pulled in high school, all the cons we got away with.”
He shakes his head. “We were dumb-ass teenagers. But we’re not in high school anymore, Alex. This is the real world with real people and real feelings. You’re screwing with your family’s feelings—and hers. The woman in that bed you wanted so bad.” His eyes narrow as a new thought seems to hit him. “Did you sleep with her so you could convince her to come?”
I jerk back, anger flaring. “What’s it to you who I sleep with? She’s a consenting adult.”
Curtis sighs, pulls out his wallet, and slaps $10 on the counter. The sound cracks like a slap. “Yeah, it’s been great catching up with you.” He slides off the stool.
“I told you I was buying your beer! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
He shakes his head, pity in his eyes. “I don’t want you to buy my beer. You’ve turned into an asshole. If you come to your senses, let me know. I’d love to be your friend again. But this guy?” His gestures to me. “No thanks.”
He walks out of the bar as I fight the anger boiling in my chest. But deep down, I know he’s right. I’m an asshole, but I’m so deep in this pit of assholery, I’m not sure how to climb out.
Then I think about Finley. How she’s so sweet to everyone. When I first started going to Beans to Go, I thought she was fake. That it was a persona for the job. It didn’t take long to realize she was genuine.
The way she remembers their names and families. The way she talks about her elderly neighbors. Finley isn’t pretending with my family. She’s genuine.
Finley is a good person. The kind of person that I’d like to be, but it’s too damn late for me, right?
