“That’s probably part of it.”
“Part of what?”
He tilted his head to give me the same look he gave me when we were kids and he was fed up that I wasn’t sharing the Nintendo 64. “You were rude.”
I rolled my eyes. “When was I rude?”
“Sadie doesn’t have to announce her allergy to the fucking table.”
“Right,” I conceded even though I felt my shock and outrage were very justified. “Sure, that might be part of it.”
“Can you be nice to her?” His brows pinched together and his eyes grew soft in a way that reminded me of our dad. “I think she’s more sensitive than usual.”
I straightened, and squared my shoulders, unsure if I was feeling protective or defensive. “What do you mean?”
“She just got out of this thing with this guy who really fucked her around. I think she might be kinda tender—”
”—Yeah, sure,” I mumbled as everything clicked into place. A boyfriend explained why she hadn’t responded to my texts for a couple of months, and it might even make her attitude toward me make sense. I still wished she had talked to me. If she didn’t want anything to happen between us while we were here because she was still going through a breakup, it was a lot simpler to say than to be weirdly antagonistic.
”—And you were borderline an asshole—”
“That’s bullshit, no I wasn’t,” I interrupted.
He started ticking my offenses off on his fingers. “You didn’t even say hello to her when she came to dinner. No matter how much we tried to pull you into a conversation, you wouldn’t if you’d be talking to Sadie. And then obviously, the whole allergy thing.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, I was concerned.”
“That would be fine if it weren’t for everything else.”
I held up my hand to stop him from talking. “Mike, I will be so fucking nice. Okay?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. “Good. We can order you an Uber for tomorrow—”
“I have a rental.”
“Oh cool, I’ll send a group text so you and Sadie can coordinate riding together.”
Swallowing, I wondered if she’d want to share a car with me. I’d find a way for her to have an out so she didn’t feel forced. “Sounds good.”
He half-turned then faced me again. “And don’t worry about the lessons. It’s like basic slow dance stuff. It’s not meant to be super intimate.”
I nodded, unsure of how to respond to that.
“Also, sorry if this was a surprise. It’s not like I thought you’d get yourself lessons, but I also didn’t think you’d have a big opposition to it.”
“No, it’s really no problem.” For the most part, it wasn’t. I liked to dance. Dancing with a partner who’d rather have nothing to do with me sounded less fun.
He jogged away, leaving me to continue back to my room with my head down.
I followed the walk to the beach entrance of The Brontë when I came to an abrupt stop as a memory of Sadie and my last hang out popped into my head. She’d said something about the future and wanting something meaningful. And I’d said that I was already living the life I wanted to live, and that the work I was doing was meaningful enough for me.
Had she been talking about the guy?
This was exactly what pissed me off about other men. I was very clear about only wanting casual relationships, that the women I spent time with should date other people and when our time ran out there wouldn’t be any hard feelings. I wished them well. Hopefully they enjoyed their time with me as much as I’d enjoyed being with them. Not that I was a huge ladies’ man, I liked consistent friends with benefits sort of relationships.
It was when other men promised something they couldn’t deliver on that I hated. Which was why I offered casual only. Who wouldwant to be with someone as broken as me? I wasn’t trustworthy with anyone’s feelings, and I’d hate myself if I hurt Sadie.
Whoever this guy was, he’d given her hope for something more, and if he wasn’t willing or able to provide that he shouldn’t have lied.
