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“Aubrey,” Zane says, but I shake my head and narrow my eyes at him. “Fine. Okay, I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you.”
At the door, Rina pulls me in for a hug. “He’s a moron, but he’s not all bad. When you calm down a bit, listen to him, okay?”
I will not cry. “Thank you,” is all I say, and then I walk to the car. I sit in the passenger seat and wait as Zane appears to get an earful from both Rina and Ben.
How could he say that? That maybe I’m just a good actress, and I’ve been playing him all this time? I tried to get him to move out when I saw that there was a mix-up with the condo for God’s sake. And I was a virgin.
I wouldn’t know how to play a guy if I had a handbook and a YouTube tutorial for reference. Especially not someone like Zane Cooper.
Zane finally joins me in the car, starts the engine, and pulls away from Ben and Rina’s house, headed toward our condo. We live only about a three-minute drive away.
“Aubrey, I’m sorry.”
“You know, that was a shitty thing to say,” I reply immediately and point my finger at him. “I’m not the type of person who plays those kinds of games.”
“I know.” He sighs and pulls his hand down his face. “I don’t even know why I said it. I know it’s not true.”
“It was hurtful. And if you said it, then a piece of you believes it. And, frankly, there’s nothing I can do about that because I haven’t done anything to you to make you think I’m interested in anything but you. I don’t care that you’re famous, Zane.”
“Are you sure?” He pulls into his parking space and cuts the engine, then turns to me. “Are you sure that you don’t care?”
I roll my eyes, get out of the car, and hurry up the stairs to the condo. I don’t huff and puff like I did when we first moved in. Instead, I push inside, drop my bag on the kitchen island, and pace the room in agitation.
“What do you want me to say?” I demand. “That I’m starstruck every time I look at you? That it’s a huge stroke to my ego that I lost my virginity to the likes of Zane Cooper, the most famous man in the world?”
“Some would,” he replies with a shrug. “And have. Well, not the virginity part, but you know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t know what you mean, Zane. Because you don’t talk to me about that stuff. I don’t even know why you’re hiding out here, in a tiny condo in Seattle. But you know what? It’s none of my business.” I hold up a hand when he looks as if he might start talking, then walk to the fridge and grab a bottle of wine and a glass. I stomp back to my bedroom. I don’t slam the door because I’m not a child.
But I really want to.
I set my stuff down, lock the door, and sit on the edge of the bed. My heart hurts. My stomach is in knots.
And I’m so mad at him, I could throw something at his perfect head.
I hear him try to turn the doorknob and clench my eyes closed. I feel the tears now. My throat burns and feels tight.
“Open up, Aubrey.”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me.
“Come on. I’m an idiot. Just open up, and we’ll talk about this.”
I don’t want to. Maybe I’m being childish, but damn it, he hurt my feelings and embarrassed me in front of people who are important to him.
I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want him to see me cry.
“I need some time alone,” I say quietly, and he stops trying to turn the knob.
I hear him walk away, and I bury my face in a pillow.
All I can smell is him.
“Damn it,” I mutter and set the pillow aside. I stare at the wine but decide against it.
I have to work tomorrow. No one likes to work with a hangover, especially when it’s with small children.
Instead, I just roll into a ball on the bed and let myself have a cry-fest.
I’ve gotten good at keeping a hard shell over the years. Being the homely kid means getting teased a lot.
I have thick skin.
But I’d let myself soften toward Zane over the past few weeks. To trust that he wouldn’t be one of the people who’d hurt my feelings.
And yet, here we are.
My feelings are hurt, my confidence is gone, and I’m just…sad.
* * * *
I left the condo before the sun came up this morning so I didn’t have to see Zane.
Is that chickenshit of me? Yes. But I don’t care.
It was a brutal morning. Mondays can be tough, because the kids are used to being home and in a different routine for a couple of days. So, there was some whining. Some yawning.
