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Problem is, it’s not smart to kick a police officer’s ass even if he did break your heart. Jail time isn’t how I want to spend the rest of my summer.
Instead, I’m going to choose which brother I’m moving in with, find a rental, and steer clear of Gage for the rest of my life … or until we awkwardly run into each other in a public setting.
I have my coffee in one hand, my bag on my shoulder, and my scrubs on when I hear my front door being unlocked. Gage comes through the doorway, big and broad and looking like shit, complete with red-rimmed eyes, arms hanging loosely at his sides.
He clears his throat and scratches his neck when he sees me. “You ready to go?”
I clutch my cup, silently staring, waiting for him to clarify what last night was about.
“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday.” His apology is rushed, panicky, and regret is evident on his face—along with signs of dehydration and lack of sleep. If Sierra did spend the night, he must not have been a decent lay. “It was a bad day.”
My bag slips off my shoulder, and I don’t stop it from falling on the floor. “What are you doing here?”
“Apologizing for my bullshit behavior.”
I assess him, the need to figure out what I’m missing rushing through me, but there’s nothing there. All I see is a hungover man who doesn’t care about anything right now. The same empty man from last night.
Broken people make for regretful actions.
Gage came home with Sierra and is asking me for forgiveness.
I can easily give him what he wants.
But I can’t play games with someone who freezes me out and isn’t interested in giving me his all.
“Don’t you think it’s rude not to take your one-night stand to breakfast?” I ask before scoffing. “Or wait, is that what you had for breakfast, considering that’s yourfavorite mealand all? Looks like you have no preference of whom you get it from.”
He slowly blinks at me. “What?”
“Sierra. Did you already kick her out of your bed this morning?”
“Sierra? She helped my dad put my drunken ass to bed last night and then went home.”
I shake my head and snatch my bag up from the floor. Getting myself worked up before my shift isn’t a good idea. “It doesn’t matter. I have to go.”
He stops me from moving around him to get to the front door. “I said I’m sorry. I had a rough day. Just hear me out.”
I cross my arms. “Want to talk about it?”
“Nothing to talk about. It was a stressful day at work.” His voice turns into a fake playfulness. “You know how those are. You’ve had them.”
My smartwatch pings with a text message that was sent to my phone. “My dad is here. I have to go.”
I’m grateful that my parents answer their phones at any time throughout the night. Two in the morning, my dad answered, no sleep in his voice, and didn’t ask any questions when I asked for a ride.
“Tell your dad to go home. I’ll take you to work. I already committed to it.”
Commitment. Ha.
“Things change, Gage. I will no longer be needing any rides from you.”
“Lauren.”His false playfulness is gone. Since he walked through that door, Gage’s mood has gone from regret to forced jest and now to desperation.
My heart breaks as I look at him, and I see this as an opportunity to fix him, to fix us. “I’ll share a ride with you if you tell me what’s going on.”
He violently shakes his head. “I can’t. Don’t ask me to do that.”
“Enjoy your day, Gage.”
