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“She was…” I paused searching for the right word and came up short.
“Nice?” she supplied.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Now what’s a girl got to do to get a beer around here?”
“You cut your hair.”
My heart thudded against my chest at the sound of his voice.
“Not even an inch.” I held my breath as I turned. All night I’d kept a comfortable distance between us, but I’d needed a minute of space. It was too much being so close and yet so far away.
“But it’s different. I like it.”
I’d had layers cut into my hair in a Paris salon. The fact he’d noticed the subtle change did strange things to me.
“You had a good football season.”
“Is that really what you want to talk about?” He took a pull off his beer, those strong fingers wrapped firmly around the can.
I shuddered, well aware of what those hands were capable of.
“And you wanted to discuss my hair?”
He leaned against the front of a truck, crossing one ankle over the other with a hint of a smile.
“You haven’t changed at all,” I huffed.
“Is that what you wanted? Me to change.”
I tapped my foot. No. Yes. I didn’t know. “I can’t do this.”
I’d made it two steps when he spoke. “Who is he?”
The words were a double-edged blade that sliced through both of us. I spun and got right up in his space. It was a mistake. The familiar scent of nature and spice hit me in the face. Who we’d been, what we were, assaulted me from every direction.
“A friend.” Not that I owed him an explanation. Mitch was the one who gave up on us. “You didn’t even try to stop me,” I hissed.
“Was I supposed to? I thought the whole point of waiting until you were practically on the plane to tell me was so I couldn’t do anything but watch you go.”
The bitterness in his tone clawed at me. I’d hurt him, and I hated myself for it.
“You ended things.”
“Now that’s where we differ. The way I see it, the second you chose not to tell me about the trip was whenyouended it.”
I staggered back at the truth. “I didn’t know how,” I whispered.
“Guess it doesn’t matter now.”
He pushed off the hood of the truck and walked away.
Chapter Four
Mitch
“The Morgans will be hereany minute. Help me get this roast from the oven, boy.”
My grandmama slapped two oven mitts into my chest.
