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Twenty-Eight
“Hey.” Dean trailed behind Sarah, the blue sky dotted with a few jagged gray clouds overhead, her usual quick steps taking her across a small road on the way to Main Street.
She stalked onward, not stopping to look at him. “Sorry, can’t talk now.”
He frowned at her back and pushed for a longer stride to catch up. She tended to keep to herself most times, but she also wasn’t usually outright dismissive either. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing, just busy.” Her staggered phrasing made her seem pissed more than busy, though over what, he had no idea.
He tried not to growl because Sarah wouldn’t play into growling, so a more nonplussed reply would have to work. “Okay. Well. Want to tell me what you’re busy with and maybe I can help?”
“I’m not sure you’d want to.” She swatted hair from her face, the light spring breeze working against her seeming need to get away from him. “I’m handing out invites.”
“Invites?”
“Yeah, invites.”
“Invites to what?
He wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He’d never been all that talkative, and this game of twenty questions only highlighted how far he’d fallen.
Fallen? As in, for Sarah? Have I really gone that far?
He couldn’t seem to shut up when it came to this woman, that much was clear. Then again, if she alone didn’t send him off-kilter, her evasive act right now did.
“Invitations to Blaine and Emilia's engagement party.” She held a casual tone but by now he had a good view of her profile, as well as the tension pulling at her jaw. “Though we’re not supposed to call it an engagement party, so try to keep that bit a secret.”
Her tight tone had his brow sinking heavy and his muscles turning slack. At least her cageyness wasn’t about him, and still… “You’re handing out invites to your ex’s engagement?”
“Yes.” Her steely stare pinned on the street ahead, and her stride didn’t slow.
She clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and somehow, he couldn’t let it go. “I guess that explains a lot.”
She sent him an unreadable stare before ripping her attention away again.
The Main Street storefronts flicked by to her right, and he marched alongside her, his hands clenched into fists in an attempt to keep from reaching out and grabbing her arm. She wouldn’t appreciate him forcing her to stop, much less forcing any kind of direct conversation. Was it even his place to talk exes with her?
But he had an endless list of things to say and wanted to cut the love-sick-puppy act, so he planted his feet and waited to see if she’d make room for him too. “Will you stop already and talk?”
She halted and swung around, her wide gaze darting about as though checking no one else heard his loud demand.
“We had a deal, remember?” She held a tight whisper, gaze still moving about her. “No public displays.”
“You want everyone to think we don’t get along, don’t you?” He crossed his arms, hinting that this current terse display would suit her goal perfectly. “Though I’m not so sure either of us is pretending right now.”
She swore under her breath and grabbed his arm, tugging him toward a narrow alleyway at the side of a coffee shop. She stared at him for a while, her jaw tight, before some of that tension slipped away and she gave a heavy sigh. “Blaine knows about us.”
The strain throughout his body dropped too, and he stared at her in stunned silence. “You told him about me?”
She sank back and shook her head. “No. He figured it out, which is worse.”
Well, yeah, that was worse, though probably not for the same reasons she figured. He’d wanted her to claim a stake over this relationship, over him. Telling someone, especially her ex, would have gone a long way toward that.
“He didn’t figure I was seeing you exactly, just that something had changed, and I was probably seeing someone.” She shrugged, not looking at him as she spoke. “I can’t help but wonder, if he put the pieces together, how long until everyone else does?”
He held silent for a moment, trying to decide what her true motivations were. “Would people knowing about us be so bad? We’ve been seeing each other for weeks now.”
“Maybe not, but it wouldn’t be fair.” She peered up at him, even as she began pacing in a short line back and forth. “Not for you.”
