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“Dum luck,” I repeated, tapping the table with my index finger.
“Isn’t it perfect weather for golfing?” Bridget asked no one in particular.
Frank nodded. “Did you play already?”
“No, we’re about to. I love it. In fact, I’m in a tournament next week.”
Caroline pinched Bridget’s watermelon ensemble. “Aren’t you the cutest thing? Would you like to have a seat?”
“I’d love to. Thank you.”
Not able to take it anymore, I leapt up. “Here. Take mine.”
Mom frowned. “But we didn’t even eat yet.”
“I’m not really all that hungry.”
When she moved to stand, I stopped her. “No, don’t get up. Sit and eat. I’ll talk to you later.” Then I gave a quick wave to the table and sped toward the parking lot.
Jason followed. Of fucking course. “Hey, Gemma, wait up a sec.”
I didn’t slow down, but he and his long legs caught up as I reached the car. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He wrapped his fingers around my elbow. “You’re upset.”
“No, I’m not.” I was spent. It was too draining to continue this pinball game. The up and down, back and forth, love and hate. It had to stop. He’d claimed Bridget was only a friend when I had asked him about her, but that wasn’t the truth.
The facts were that Bridget called him at the Labor Day picnic, she’d picked up his phone when I had called the other night, and now, here she was, in the flesh, preening under his attention. Three strikes. I was done.
“I’m really sorry about all that,” he said.
I slid on his sunglasses, having no intention of giving them back. After this fiasco, he deserved to lose something to me. Besides, I looked good in them. “You don’t need to apologize. You don’t owe me anything.”
“I feel like after yesterday—”
“I don’t care.” I attempted to open my car door, but he leaned against it, hands in his pockets.
“But—”
“It’s fine. Really. Hang out with whoever you want. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
He pushed his hands through his hair. “I don’t think you understand.”
My shoulders caved in, tired of the conversation. “I do understand. I may not be an engineer or have my MBA, but I do understand.”
“See,” he growled, straightening to his full height. “Right away, you take it to this place it doesn’t need to go. You get an idea in that pretty little head of yours and jump off the rails. You need to stop putting words in my mouth.”
This situation was unmistakable. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Jason and Bridget had some kind of relationship, and I had no desire to get in the middle of it.
“I jump off the rails?” I huffed. “Jason, that girl is in love with you. I’m not going to sit there and have it thrown in my face after you kissed me yesterday.”
“It’s not my fault she randomly showed up here.”
“No, but it is your fault for leading me on.”
He fisted his hands in his hair then tugged at the hem of his shirt. Once again, I took pleasure in his discomfort because my insides were so knotted up, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to eat again.
