“So, Neve mentioned you're working on some big marina development project?” Kennedy asks.
My attention snaps back to her. “Oh. Yeah. It’s still in the planning stages, but we’re hoping to present to the town council soon.”
“Exciting. What’s the scope?”
We’re talking shop again. It’s good. Safe. Professional. She asks good questions, even offers some insights about sustainable materials that I file away for later.
It’s nice. She’s nice. We get along well.
I still feel nothing. Andniceisn’t how I’d describe anything I’ve ever wanted to pursue in my entire life. I don’t want nice. Nice feels like… settling. Now I hate the word nice.
“Hey, you two,” Amanda calls out from across the yard. “We’re starting another round. You in?”
“I’m good,” I say, probably too quickly. “But you should play, Kennedy. Amanda's wildly competitive—it’s fun to watch.”
“You sure?” She looks genuinely disappointed. “I don’t want to abandon you.”
“I’m fine. Promise. Go. Win one for Team Carpenter.” I flash her what I hope is an encouraging smile.
She studies me for a moment, trying to figure out what's going on, but then nods. “Okay. But I’m coming back.”
“I’ll be here.”
She heads off toward the cornhole boards, and I let out a long breath.
Alone.Finally.
“So, Kennedy hasn’t left your side.” Neve appears in front of me with a plate of pita chips and Georgia’s crab dip. “You two look good together.”
The creamy, cheesy dip tastes like sand. “We look like nothing. Wearenothing.”
Neve blinks. “But you've been talking all night. She's into you. You guys have so much in common?—”
“We have building things in common. That’s it.” I set the chip down, suddenly not in the mood for food. “I’m sorry, Neve. I know you meant well, and Kennedy is great. Really. But I'm not interested.”
Her face falls. “Oh. I thought… You were talking and laughing.”
“I was being polite.” The words come out harsher than intended. “I’m sorry. I—Setting me up without asking first? I didn't want this.”
“I’m sorry. I should have asked.” She sits next to me. “I thought maybe you were ready to start dating again. You always say you’re too busy, and then I see you turning down every person who shows interest. I worry it’s because?—”
“Don’t. I’m fine,” I cut her off before she can bring up my past. The three failed relationships I thought could have been forever, but ended with me being dumped because the cycle of depression and anxiety was too difficult to deal with. My decision—mychoice—to keep things casual, always being the one to end things first so I don’t get hurt. The damage my parents did with their ugly divorce and putting me in the middle of it. I don’t want to discuss any of that.
She gives me a sharp look. “Are you, though? Because from where I'm sitting, you look absolutely miserable.”
“It’s—” I stop, because what can I say? I’m miserable because the man I want is twenty feet away, pretending I don’t exist? I told him to pretend he doesn’t know me, and now I’m drowning in the consequences of my own stupid rules?
“Billie.” Neve's voice is soft now. Concerned. “Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Is this about Darcy?”
My head snaps toward her. “What? No. Why would?—”
“Please. I’ve seen how you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching.” She bumps my shoulder gently. “What happened between you two? Before you met in the mudroom, I mean. Something big, right? More than just sex.”
I could lie.Shouldlie. But I hate lying, and I’m bad at it. “We met in Halifax in May, like I told you. We didn’t exchange lastnames or numbers. It was supposed to be a one-night thing, then it turned into a weekend thing. And then…”
