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The entire table goes still.
“Ooh,” Bryce teases with a knowing smirk. “You’ve done it now, Kate.”
I follow their gazes to a brooding Damon. “What? Don’t tell me you’re an Astros fan.”
“Dodgers.” A muscle feathers along his jaw as Vedant chuckles.
“Ah.”
Aakesh slurs to Walter, “This chick’s got some balls.”
Smiling around my beer, I goad, “I suppose itwasa bit of an upset when Rosario hit that three-run homer to win game six of the NLCS, huh?”
Our table erupts with a collective, “Ohh.”
“The Dodgers were a sure bet to make the World Series,” Damon says before adding, “What’s a spoiled girl like yourself know about baseball, anyway?”
The wordlittlereverberates between ‘spoiled’ and ‘girl’ even though he doesn’t speak it.
A tiny bit of what might be regret starts to clear his scowl, but it’s too late.
Embarrassment spreads heat to my face. “Maybe I’d tell you if you weren’t such a jerk.”
The butt of my beer connects with the table as I slide my chair back with a loud screech.
“Fellas, it was a pleasure meeting y’all.”
They grumble at Damon when I throw enough money to cover my meal onto the table, making for the exit without another glance.
“No, please don’t go!” Bryce calls after me.
I’m out the door and walking down the boardwalk in a matter of seconds.
What was I thinking? I’m mad at myself for a number of reasons, but mostly for thinking for any matter of time that I could trust Damon to be different.
New motto—no men, no problems.
Wind whips through my loose ponytail when I hit the heart of the boardwalk. A giant Ferris wheel along with a few other rides are set up at the opposite end of where I’m going.
Instead of playing carnival games and eating cotton candy under the starry night sky, I’m headed back to Seashell Inn, where I’ll crawl into my crappy spring-ridden bed and hope for a better tomorrow.
“Kate!” Damon hollers from behind me.
The sound of my flip-flops smacking the creaky wood grows louder as I hurry past restaurants and shops still alive with tourists. One of the local shop owners gives me a friendly wave as I pass by, but I keep my head down, trying not to draw attention to myself.
By the time I’ve made it down the stairs that lead to the beach, Damon’s reached the top. I frantically remove my sandals so I can trudge through the sand, but he’s on me before I have time to remove them.
“Kate. Wait, please.”
Blowing a tuft of hair out of my face, I spin on him. His hands fly up defensively when I shove the tip of my shoes in his face.
“So you can chastise me like a child in front of your friends again? No, thank you.”
The dim lights from the dock above shadow the beard growth he’s not bothered to trim since yesterday, and his dark brows cut inward.
“I didn’t mean to treat you like a child, Kate.”
A gust of wind flirts with loose strands of his hair, and the cologne he’s wearing wafts toward me on a delicate wisp of air.
