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“Maybe not all of us have a good relationship with our parents,” he says.
“I sure don’t,” I say flippantly. “Well, not with my father. My mom and I… it’s complicated, but Ace doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents either. It’s rather common.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier to live through,” he mutters. “Sorry. I don’t talk about my parents.”
“And that’s fine. We don’t have to. I’m sorry I brought it up. I guess I just wanted to get to know you more, but it’s fine. Keep your secrets.”
Rob halts. “I don’t do serious relationships,” he says. “Too many people have let me down, and I can only count on my guys.”
“Maybe you could count on me if you would let me in,” I say simply, “but if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’m sorry you were hurt so badly that you don’t want to give anyone a chance, but actually…” I blow out a breath. “I actually have… I don’t let a lot of people in. Even Robyn and Michaela and my new friends, I haven’t told them everything about my past. I don’t want to relive it, you know?”
He says nothing. In fact, he doesn’t react at all.
“And I have trust issues too,” I add. “That’s probably the biggest reason why I don’t… why I didn’t let you in, why I’ve been trying to keep you at arm’s length. It’s not so much that I don’t want you or to be with you… but then again, you don’t want to date me, just fuck me, so… I’m sorry you got the impression that I’m easy, but that’s not the case. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“You haven’t burst my bubble,” he mutters, “but I’m messed up, Katie. It would probably be better for you if you stay away from me and my friends. Why do you even want to give any of us a second chance? I’ve been a dick to you. They’re been complete assholes. We don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“As if I haven’t pushed back,” I argue. “I spray painted their bikes, and I’ve said shit I shouldn’t have. It’s not just you guys. I’ve fueled the fires too. There’s no reason why we can’t start over and make amends.”
“Katie, darling, we’re the Grim Reapers. We ruin and kill everything we touch. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. There’s a reason why none of us are in committed relationships. We would ruin that, ruin whoever the unlucky girl is. One-night stands, that’s all we can offer any girl. Maybe one will last a week, but anything longer than that…” He shakes his head. “You deserve more than that.”
“All girls deserve more than that,” I say dryly. “I don’t understand why you’re insisting that you can only be with a girl short-term. Why not? Why are you so certain that you’ll fuck everything up? I don’t understand. Make me understand. Are you afraid?”
“It has nothing to do with fear.”
“Then why? Because I’ll be honest. This sounds like a crock of dog shit, a steaming pile.”
“Every time I’ve tried to date a girl long-term, it’s ended badly,” he says.
“How so? With you cheating on her?”
“No, cheating wasn’t involved. I tend to go for bad girls, okay? And that’s a disaster right there.”
“I’m not a bad girl,” I protest.
“Aren’t you, Ms. Spray Paint?”
“At least I’m not Ms. Tire Slasher,” I joke weakly.
“You have a spine, and you stick up for yourself, and I admire that. I admire you. Like I said, there’s something about you, and I can tell there’s something eating at you, and I want to know what it is. I want to help you, but I also know that if we get too close, I’ll screw things up. It’ll end badly. Everything does for me, and I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have, so lose my number, okay? Don’t call or text, and forget where I live. You’ll be better off for it.”
Without another word, he stalks off.
I don’t even think about it. I take off after him, calling his name, but he’s practically running away, and my phone starts to ring. I slow down to grab it out of my jeans pocket. My mom. Shit. Worst timing in the world.
“Fuck you, Rob Blackwood!” I shout. “You can’t make me forget about you! I dreamed about you after the cruise ship so I couldn’t even forget you then, back when I thought you would never reappear in my life!”
He doesn’t stop, but he does slow down a bit, clearly listening to what I have to say, but now he’s back to running again. During my speech, I stopped chasing after him, and I quickly answer my phone.
And all I hear is crying.
Immediately, my stomach clenches into tight knots. “Mom? What’s going on?”
“I don’t… How…” Mom babbles.
“Mom, take a deep breath,” I coach. “Inhale… exhale. Inhale… exhale. Good. Now, tell me what happened.”
“I… My old bank notified me.”
