Page 24 of Embrace

“Huh? Oh, no. I’m totally for that. Give me a whole football field’s worth of those little rug rats.” If I were focused, I’d give a normal response, but then the guy at the register moves.

My replies to Jake’s questions are a series of yeses and nos, with a few depends here and there. I’ve already lost interest, and I think it’s got something to do with his questions always somehow sliding toward marriage.

Am I the problem?

Then there’s a sharp clatter of utensils and a low, startled “Oh shit” that cuts through the noise of the diner. My head turns toward the table diagonal from our booth, where a guy in a hoodie, sitting alone, pretends to study the world’s biggest menu. When he leans down to grab the fallen fork, I catch the tattoos inked across his forearm, curling out from under his sleeve. And when he straightens, the oversize sunglasses do a terrible job of hiding exactly who he is.

You have got to be kidding me.

Kian Ishida peeks over his menu. My gaze better be burning holes into his head, because he’s not looking my way, and he’s got a hand covering the side of his face now.

Jake is oblivious to my sudden realization as he continues to ask questions, such as if I plan on staying in Hartford forever like him. Leaving has always been the one promise I made to myself. There is nothing here I want to carry with me, only memories I have been aching to shake off.

“It depends.” But even as the words leave my mouth, I know I can’t keep this up. I can’t keep pretending to be the girl he wants, not even for one date.

As if on cue, my phone rings. I give Jake an apologetic smile and answer.

“He’s perfect, right?” Kian’s voice comes through my phone from literally ten feet away. “Maybe a little nerdy, but that’s your thing, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. You’re a peach for this. I owe you big-time,” I say, my teeth clenched under a plastic smile.

“Really?” There’s a flicker of boyish hope in his voice.

“Oh, totally,” I murmur. “Sleep with one eye open.”

A pause stretches. Then his frown cuts straight through the line. “Wait. Was that sarcasm?”

I’m done. Done with this whole game, done with his lurking in the background. “Oh my God. Where are you?” I practically screech, my voice pitching up with fake panic.

“Scar…what are you doing?” Kian asks.

I slap a hand over my mouth. “You’re kidding! I’ll be there right away.”

“Scarlett. You can’t just—”

I hang up before he can finish. Jake is watching me with surprise when I mutter that I have to leave, slide out of the booth, and push through the front door without looking back. My heels strike a quick, sharp rhythm against the sidewalk until I reach the corner where my Uber dropped me off. I am halfway across the cobblestone street when I hear my name.

Footsteps follow close behind me, heavier than mine and impossible to ignore. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

Kian’s hand closes around my elbow. “What was that?”

I spin to face him. “You’re asking me? What about you, Mr. Incognito?” I pull his stupid sunglasses off his face. “I told you you didn’t need to come.”

“He was ten minutes late.” Kian’s jaw ticks. “I wasn’t going to let you sit there alone.”

I roll my eyes, turning to go, but his grip stays firm.

“Did he say something to you? Is that why you left? Because I’ll go back in there and—”

“And what? Beat him up because he actually has his life together and wants to find a girl who isn’t like me at all?”

He watches me quietly.

I keep my tears at bay. “You know how shitty it is to have to sit there and realize that I’m the one who’s the problem? That wanting marriage and kids—something stable, acommitment—makes me want to crawl into a hole.”

“That’s not true—”

“It’s like this reputation I’m forcing you to help me clean up isn’t actually wrong at all. I built it because I am it. I’m just a one-night stand.”