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“You always vote pizza,” Belle whined. “It’s boring to always have pizza.”
“Nu-uh,” Ford replied. “Pizza is always a good choice, Baby Belle.”
We weren’t the only ones in the kitchen now, but I had yet to move away from Uncle Brody’s chest. I was scared to death they’d all witness me falling apart. “Hey,” Uncle Brody whispered and pulled away. He grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to his. “What’s going on? You’re shaking.”
“I…need the bathroom,” I managed to croak out and pulled away from him. The kitchen spun as I stepped toward the door, faces blurring, voices fading. I was losing my bearings, and there was only one way I could get them back: cutting.
Chapter Four
CADE
Part of me had wanted to be a couple of minutes late for the date, if only to show Willow I didn’t adhere to her demands, but I knew it wouldn’t bode well for me. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be patient much longer.
The jeans and T-shirt I’d thrown on were a definite rejection to her. She was expecting this to be a proper date, and for all intents and purposes, it would be, but I wouldn’t dress like I wanted to impress her. There was only one woman I wanted to impress, and it was the one I couldn’t have.
I pulled up outside her house at two minutes to eight and turned the engine off. I spotted a curtain twitching in one of the living room windows, no doubt making sure I turned up. Inhaling a deep breath, I pushed out of the car, but hadn’t even made it to the end of the path leading to her front door when it swung open.
“You’re here,” Willow sang, almost as if she hadn’t expected me to turn up. It crossed my mind what she’d actually do if I hadn’t. Would she have gone to the principal? The police? Even if they didn’t have any evidence—which I had no idea what they could unearth if they were really trying—it would still be a black mark against my name.
A black mark I’d never be able to scrub clean.
“I am,” I said, pulling a smile onto my face as she walked toward me on heels so high I had no idea how she was managing to balance. I glanced down at the red, tight dress she wore, but I didn’t feel a thing. This time last year, if I’d have seen that on a woman, it would have been my mission to view it on my bedroom floor, but now…now I was indifferent. I wasn’t sure what was worse: feeling a certain emotion toward something, or feeling nothing at all.
I pulled the passenger door open for her, and she gripped my hand as she slid into the car, staring up at me like I was her Prince Charming. Was she really so clueless?
Slamming her door shut, I closed my eyes, and took a breath. I wasn’t sure how I would get through tonight. I wasn’t good at sheltering my emotions or schooling my features, but I needed to become better at it; otherwise, this wouldn’t end well.
Neither of us spoke as I drove. Luckily, it was only fifteen minutes until I was pulling up outside the restaurant and parking in an empty space. The growl of the engine and low music I’d had playing stopped as I turned the engine off, basking us in silence. I waited a beat, trying to pull myself together fully, and then exited the car.
I walked around to the passenger side and opened her door. I held my hand out to help her out. She didn’t let go of it when I shut the door, and even though I wanted to move my hand away from hers, I didn’t. I needed to put an act on. I had to give her the date she wanted. Maybe that way she’d be satisfied and I could put all of this behind me.
Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as we walked toward the restaurant, and I glanced over at her. She came up to my shoulder, taller than Aria, and I cursed myself for comparing the two. Aria was small and delicate, whereas Willow was harsh and in your face. It wasn’t only that, though. It was the history. Aria and I had a weaved web, but Willow and I were just colleagues.
Willow
stared up at me as I pulled open the door to the restaurant, her smile showing her teeth. “Thank you.” I nodded in reply and let go of her hand as we entered.
The restaurant was full to bursting, exactly like I hoped it would be on a Saturday night. At least with other people around to distract us, we wouldn’t have to share too much conversation—I hoped.
We were shown to a table toward the back and placed between another two couples who also looked like they were on dates. Part of me wanted to ask to be seated in the area it looked like had been cornered off for families, but I refrained and sat down.
I was acting like an asshole not pulling her chair out and not asking what she wanted to drink before I ordered myself a beer. I wasn’t here because I wanted to be, and I wanted Willow to know that. She could slap her makeup on her face all day long and wear the tightest clothes she could, it wouldn’t make a difference to me. I still wouldn’t want her. But I had to walk a fine line. If I let my true feelings show, it could all be over within seconds, and then I’d be truly fucked.
The waitress handed us the menu, and I read over every item twice, trying to distract myself long enough to hone in on what I had to achieve tonight. I needed to get Willow off my back, but also Aria’s. She could turn our lives upside down with only a few words, and I couldn’t forget that.
I ordered a pasta dish while Willow ordered a salad—who the hell ordered salad at an Italian restaurant? Once our drinks were placed in front of us—beer for me and wine for her—we had nothing to occupy our attention which meant…
“So, Cade, tell me how you became a teacher.”
It was the obligatory get-to-know-you question, but I found myself not wanting to answer it, and it was so much more than just explaining it to her. It was revealing parts of me I didn’t want to reveal—at least, not to her anyway.
“I was a lacrosse coach back in college, and I found a love for it.”
“So it’s coaching you prefer?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat and taking a sip of her wine. Her lipstick left a mark around the rim of the glass, and I couldn’t help sneer at it.
“Yeah,” I replied, I knew I needed to say something else, but I was falling flat. I wasn’t usually this bad at conversation, but apparently my body and brain refused the idea of Willow sitting opposite me. “What about you?”
Her face lit up, her smile growing even more, and I realized this was what she wanted. She wanted me to ask her questions so she could tell me all the things she could about herself. At that moment, a light bulb went off in my head—the perfect way to keep her occupied: let her talk about herself.
