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“Now it’s your turn,” I tell him, and he glances over at me in confusion.
“My turn for what?”
“To ask me a question. God, you’re so bad at this.”
“I never know what to say to you,” he admits in a low grumble as we turn off the highway and instantly get stuck in San Francisco traffic.
“I don’t miss this,” I tell him, and he frowns.
“Oh, that’s right. You lived here for a few months, right?”
“Yeah, and for college.”
“And then you gave up and came back to Redwood.”
He says it so matter of factly. I’m surprised that it hurts so much to hear Jensen say that. I don’t let him know he hit a sore spot. Instead, I glare at him.
Is that what everyone in town thinks of me? That I gave up?
I turn and glare out the window, the temperature in the truck dropping as the cold war slides firmly back into place. I won’t cry in front of him. I will not shed a single tear.Do you hear me? All tears are hereby ordered to retreat.
“Shit, Fawn. I didn’t… I mean… I’m sorry,” he starts.
“Whatever,” I mumble under my breath.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to explain, but I ignore him.
I blink rapidly, screaming internally at my stupid tears to dry up. Can’t be the town sunshine if I go around crying every time someone hurts my feelings.
I can’t believe I thought about being nice to him. He’s such a jerk. He doesn’t deserve my kindness.
Jensen turns onto a side street, and we cruise down a few blocks until he pulls into the driveway of a charming two-story house just off of the main street.
A million different ideas for the landscaping and porch spring to my mind and brighten my mood. I smile as I hurry out of the truck and up the front porch steps.
“I’m going in. Let me know when you’re ready to go,” Jensen says as he unlocks the door and strides inside.
I walk around the outside, taking in the place. It’s got good bones, and the garden is bare but in pretty good condition too. I take my time walking through the house. I do my best to avoid Jensen, but he catches up to me as I make my way upstairs.
“I really am sorry,” he says as he follows me into the master bedroom.
“We don’t have to keep talking,” I tell him, hoping to brush him off. “We’re not very good at it.”
“Fawn, stop.” I pause, my back facing Jensen. “I don’t think you gave up. I don’t know why I said that.”
I shrug. “It’s fine,” I lie.
“Look at me.” I don’t want to, but my body turns on its own until his green eyes latch onto mine. “It isn’t fine. You never give up on anything, including grudges, so I know you didn’t give up here either.”
I bite back a smile at his words and relax slightly.
“I didn’t,” I confirm. “I just hated it here. It was so loud all of the time. There are so many people and tourists and traffic. It drove me crazy. Not to mention I never really felt safe.”
“I get that. I’ve been here for an hour and already want to leave,” he says in a grumpy tone.
I look in the bathroom and then move down the hall to the guest room.
“The house is actually pretty nice. There are a few things downstairs that I think we should bring back to Irene, but everything else can be sold with the house. A lot of this is just cheap furniture,” I tell him, and he nods.
