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I tug London out from her hiding place. “London, this is Sidney. Princess Sidney, Princess London.”
The kid squeaks, apparently deciding this is the time to be shy, and she buries herself again.
“I want to thank you for the invite, but it’s a no.”
“No? Wait, what?” I stop. “The family thing?”
She nods tightly. “I just came to see about my car.”
“Oh, that’s still delayed, don’t know when.” Right now, I’m so confused that the lie is the least of my problems. “Sidney—”
“Here.” She hands me a card, a fucking card, and it’s got her name, job title, and phone number on it. Just great. “Call me when it’s done.”
“So, just like that?”
Her lips press together as she glances away, and there’s hurt in her eyes. I don’t even know why. I didn’t do a thing to hurt her. I’ve been more than fucking playing by her rules.
“Really effing nice, Sidney.”
“We . . . Mack . . . ” Her voice breaks a little. “I’m not like you. And I-I’m not staying. You want someone as full of life as you are. You deserve someone like that.”
“Or, you know, you,” I remark, none too happy with what’s going on. Why the sudden change?
She shakes her head, and I can’t work out what’s happened. Things were good. We were on the same page, we had tons of sex, and when we parted, it was more than obvious neither of us was done or wanted it done. So, what the actual fuck?
“It was a mistake.”
“A really long mistake,” I say.
“We don’t work, not . . . not in the long run.”
I narrow my eyes as London’s hands grip my knee hard. “I wasn’t aware there was a long run. I wasn’t aware anything was offered and on any tables.”
“You’re right.” The hurt in her eyes deepens.
I breathe out. “I didn’t mean it was nothing, but you’re telling me we won’t work because you seem to think there’s this big future written out. There isn’t.”
I’m mangling what I want to say to the point I don’t even fucking know what I want to say except we don’t need to do pressure, just ride the wave. But somehow, I get the feeling she’ll get mad at that too.
Right now, I’m kinda limited in what I can do or say with the sponge known as London attached to me.
“Let’s talk later.” I point at the mop head monkey space princess London.
Sidney’s eyes get all yearning, then they harden. “Call me when it’s ready.”
With that, she turns and walks out on stiff legs.
My head spins as London loosens her hold.
What the fuck just happened? It’s more than her being all cold-footed and wanting to run. It’s like someone said something and flipped a switch and turned all that lovely light in her to the offsetting.
I didn’t help.
With a sigh, I pick up London. Who gives me her judgmental look, the one that’s usually reserved for people who try and feed her Brussels sprouts? “She was mad at you, Uncle Mack. Were you mean? Did you do something bad?”
Only in the right fucking ways. “Yeah, she’s mad. I think she thinks I was.”
“That makes no sense.”
