Chapter 126
“All words I’ve used before,” aside from the last one. It is kind of true, though, but mostly Cam’s insecurity about his shoe size talking. “I’ll be fine, Cam. I’m wearing my emotionally bulletproof underwear today.”
He sighs. “Just don’t give him your heart and expect him to treat it like anything other than a disposable lighter.”
I shrug, already spotting Lyle near the vending machines. “Thanks for the Italian, by the way. How’d you know I was craving pasta?”
Cam frowns. “I didn’t—” His phone buzzes. He glances at it, then laughs under his breath. “Never mind.” He reaches out and taps me on the forehead like I’m five. “I’m glad you liked it. You should eat more, Tessie. And sleep more. And stop wasting your time on guys who wear size forty–five. There are guys out there with perfectly normal sized feet, too.”
His words make me laugh, but I can taste the seriousness in his ridiculousness.
“I’ll try,” I mumble. “After I waste my time on this one.”
If I ever decide to stop wasting my time on him, that is. I like to think I can waste my time on him for the rest of my life.
He gives me a crooked smile and heads up the stairs – straight toward Aaron, who I hadn’t even noticed leaning against the wall.
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He’s holding his phone in one hand, watching us.
Or more specifically, watching me,
And that look on his face?
That unreadable, razor–sharp kind of focused?
Yeah. That one makes my pulse skip for an entirely different
reason.
Creep, much?
I pointedly ignore him and head for Lyle.
I smell him before I see him – woodsy cologne and a little too much confidence. His hair’s still damp, pushed back like he’s just stepped out of a hair commercial. He’s all clean lines and expensive taste. Every inch of him screams Ken doll, down to the spotless sneakers and emotionally unavailable expression.
I almost laugh. Actually laugh. But I pull it together just in time to say, “Hey. Didn’t you get my message?”
He’s sipping a Gatorade like he’s training for a half–marathon instead of ghosting girls for fun. His strawberry blonde hair. glints under the hallway lights, and when he runs his tongue over his lower lip and glances at me-
Boom. Fireworks. My stomach becomes Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
God, I hate how pretty he is. I hate it more that he knows it.
“Sorry, Tess, My battery died.”
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He gives me a smile, cool and sharp, like a blade wrapped in silk.
My stomach flips. And not in the cute, rom–com way. More like an Olympic–level gymnastic routine I didn’t ask for.
“It was marked seen, Lyle.”
“I must’ve opened it by accident.”
I blink. “You just said your phone was dead.”
He pauses. Shrugs. Doesn’t even bother to look guilty.
Here we go again.
I’ve met both versions of Lyle by now.
Version One: magnetic, flirty, melts you like butter în a
microwave when he wants you beneath him.
Version Two: detached, vaguely irritated that you dared speak to him in public like you matter.
–
And here’s the thing – I know what this is. I know what I am in this story.
I’m not the girl he’ll choose. I’m not the ending he’s dreaming about.
He’s the kind of guy who’ll settle when she comes along. The mythical right girl who changes everything.
And like Cam’s said a thousand times, I’m not her.
And I’m okay with that. Really.
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Chapter 126
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But until she shows up and until he says it’s over, officially, like ripping off a Band–Aid soaked in delusion – what’s the harm in letting my heart get bruised a little more?
“If you didn’t want to come,” I say, voice tight, “you could’ve just said so.”
Lyle arches a brow.
“You don’t have to play the whole Oops, I missed your message game. I wouldn’t throw a tantrum. It’s just an engagement party.”
He stares at me for a second, unreadable. Like maybe somewhere deep inside him, something small wants to care. But it’s buried too far under the ego and the avoidance and whatever it is that makes him so good at leaving people hanging.
“I never said I didn’t want to come.”
“Right,” I say, flat.
He actually frowns. “I mean it. I just wasn’t gonna reply right away because I’m… you know.”
I tilt my head. “Busy getting ready for Lola’s party?”
He winces like I’ve caught him in a lie he didn’t get to tell yet. “Yeah, but Tess, I really wish you’d stop assuming the worst. about me.”
His hand comes up, brushes my cheek like he has any right. His touch is soft and familiar.
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