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Dad strides toward me and hauls me into a hug, squeezing me tight. “I just want what’s best for you, sweetie.”
“I know, Dad.” My voice is muffled against his chest.
He lets me go, reaching out to ruffle my hair, but I duck away from him at the last second, watching as he leaves my bedroom without another word.
“Your father means well,” Mom starts the moment he’s gone.
“I know.”
“He doesn’t like how Ian treats you.”
No one does.
“Neither do I,” she adds.
See?
“And that’s why I think it might be smart of you to spend a little more time with Tate Ramsey.”
My mouth pops open. “Are you serious? You really think so?”
She nods. “If you’re truly interested in Ian, then this might be the best move to get him to do something about it—about you—finally.”
Rachel basically said the same thing. So did my father.
Maybe they’re all right. Maybe I should forget about Ian and focus on... Tate.
Okay, that sounds crazy. But everyone else might be onto something.
That is, if Tate is still even interested in me. After the way I treated him earlier, I wouldn’t blame him at all if he rejected me as soundly as I just rejected him.
“But isn’t that... tricking him?” I finally ask. “Tricking Ian into thinking he has to work harder to get me?”
Mom shrugs, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “Scarlett, you’re going to learn that sometimes relationships—and love—are a bit of a game. We have to manipulate the situation in order to get what we want.”
I’m frowning. This is the last thing I expected her to say. “Manipulate how?”
“Well, if, for instance, you’re constantly texting Ian, that makes him less inclined to text you. He knows that you’ll always reach out, so why should he bother?” The pointed look she sends my way hits home.
I do always text Ian, and very rarely does he text me first. I should wait for him for once, is what she’s telling me.
“Acting like you’re not interested in someone is also a good move,” she suggests. “Oh, and when a man asks you out and you’re dying to go out with him, reject him.”
“What? Why?” That just sounds counterproductive.
“You want to look like you’re living your very best life, right? That means you’re so busy you don’t have time to just pause your schedule for a man. If they think you’re busy, that makes you sound even more interesting.” Her laughter is nervous. “I know this sounds like a bunch of silly games, but trust me. It can work. Most of the time.”
I think about what she said when we eventually leave my bedroom. As we settle back into our seats at the dining table, I ignore Ian and his mother for the rest of the evening. Eating my food and looking through them as if they don’t even exist. The reassuring smiles both of my parents send in my direction throughout dinner make me feel stronger. As if I’m making them proud.
“Chin up,” my dad used to always say when I was young and on the verge of tears. “Keep your chin up, sweetheart. Don’t let the bastards get you down.”
That is something he said to me time and again, and only now can I take it to heart.
I refuse to let the bastards get me down.
Even the sexy ones.
CHAPTER11
