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I keep telling myself this, trying to convince my brain that nothing is off between me and the mountain stud. That it’s just my imagination wreaking havoc on the good things in my life.
Or maybe you really scared him with the job prospect.
My stomach sinks with that thought before I discard it altogether.
I’ve felt more like myself the past two weeks. Myoldself. I can separate my life into two time periods these days. Before Dr. Cooper and after him. I feel like I can breathe here in Sullivan’s Way. And that’s only partly because of Zane.
This place is special. The pace is different in the mountains. It’s slower here. I have time to think and feel. To process my emotions.
Wyatt: Meet us at Cowboy’s in an hour.
I frown down at the message, wondering who “us” is. And if “us” includes Zane, why didn’t he text or call me himself. His silence is off-putting, and my sense of dread grows. I resist the urge to text Zane again, though I’m tempted to.
We don’t have much time left. I’m planning to go back to the city this weekend and figure out the next step in my life. I haven’t heard back from the urgent care here in town yet after sending my résumé. I have no idea where I’m going to end up. It’s scary, but over the past few days, it’s become thrilling too, the thought of starting over. Starting fresh.
As much as I hate it, if Zane is pushing me away, then I don’t want him. And maybe if I tell myself that enough, I’ll actually start to believe it.
I spend the next hour and a half getting ready and make a special effort to look good. I straighten my hair and spend extra time on my makeup. I put on my tightest-fitting jeans and a loose, casual V-neck T-shirt with a long cardigan over it.
I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.
I purposely leave forty-five minutes late. I want to keep the guys guessing as to whether I’ll show.
Chelsea’s gone. Her family left last weekend. I pass by her rental on my way to the square. There’s a new family moving in. I smile at them as they transfer bags from a van into the house while trying to wrangle three young kids.
The butterflies multiply in my stomach as I approach the familiar bar. The doors are open again, letting in the cool night air. Miranda Lambert’s melodic voice is blasting from the speakers, and the sound grows louder, the closer I get. That feeling in my gut grows more ominous when I cross through the doorway. I stop just inside and glance around the space. My eyes land on a familiar dark brown head of hair over in the corner by the pool tables, as if we were two magnets, pulled together by some unseen force. My stomach somersaults when I first spot him, like I have crested the incline of a roller coaster and am plunging to the bottom in the next second.
Zane.
He’s perched on a tall stool against the wall, a cue stick in his hand. His legs are parted casually. But it’s what’s in between those muscular thighs that causes me to pause. Jessica. She’s pressed against him, like she belongs there. His free hand isresting low on her hip, inviting her into his space. His sexy smirk is focused on her face.
I guard my expression as the bile rises in my throat. I push it down and lift my chin as my feet start moving me closer to them. And my pride takes over.
Don’t react. No matter how bad it hurts. And no matter how bad it gets.
Zane spots me over Jessica’s shoulder. He stiffens for a moment before his face transforms into that unreadable mask. I watch as he grips Jessica tighter, doubling down. She leans further into him.
“Hey,” I say with fake enthusiasm. As if the sight of Zane holding Jessica didn’t gut me. I pretend like I’m not dying inside. Like I’m not incredibly confused.
“Hey,” Wyatt says.
He hugs me and then glances over at Zane, snorting out a distasteful sound when he spots the beautiful couple standing together. His eyes soften when he looks at me again, almost like he feels sorry for me. He leans in and kisses my cheek. I resist the urge to turn my head and change his target to my lips instead while the petty part of me longs to fight fire with fire.
Benji hugs me next.
“I’m glad you came,” he murmurs when he pulls back, his longish locks swaying in the process.
But there’s pity in his eyes. I ignore it, afraid his emotions will pull me under if I focus on them for too long.
“Hey, Lo,” Zane says, forcing my attention on him. Even though his words sound deceptively friendly, his eyes are hardened and aloof.
I was planning to ignore him. Looks like he has a different plan.
Jessica shifts until her side is resting against Zane and she’s facing me. She possessively winds her arm around his neck. There’s triumph in her light-blue eyes. She’s gloating.
“Hi, Zane. Jessica.” I include her on purpose, just to let Zane know he isn’t breaking me. He is. But I don’t want him to know it.
“You look beautiful tonight,” I say to the blonde. And she does.
