Compass (Second Chances 1)

Once the dust had settled, he could have found me to explain what happened.

I may have changed my number soon after I moved to New York City, but Gage had my parents’ phone numbers and my brother’s.

My twisted sense of pride kept me from calling him. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be the woman who chases a man after he dumps her.

Another message lights up my phone.

Preston: Or we can meet for a drink tonight. I’m free all night.

I type back a quick response.

Kate: I’m having a martini now and one is my limit.

Preston: Tell me where and I’ll join you.

“I’m sorry I was pulled away.” Gage approaches, glancing at the phone in my hands. “Zeke is on his way in, so I can leave in about fifteen minutes. We can go back to my apartment to talk if you’d like.”

I don’t want to make that a habit.

There are so many things that I’ve always imagined saying to Gage if I saw him again. Most start with the “f” word and end with my middle finger in the air pointed in his direction.

Finding out about Kristin may have taken the edge off of some of my anger, but I still feel emotionally spent. Seeing her face makes everything that much more real.

Gage is a father. It’s going to take some time to digest that fact.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, turning the screen of my phone to shield it from his view.

I’m not sure trudging through more of our past will make any difference to his future or mine.

“Why not?” His gaze darts back to the brunette standing at the end of the bar. She’s still laser focused on him. “It’s not about her, is it? I don’t know her, Katie. She’s just a customer.”

“I don’t care who she is.” I sigh heavily. “Who you talk to is none of my business. I’m leaving because I have other plans.”

He rakes me over. “A date?”

The tone of his voice is deeper. His jaw has tightened.

“That’s none of your business,” I spit back, emphasizing the word your. “I only came here to ask about your daughter. I don’t know why I stayed.”

I think I do know why.

I want the pain I’ve been carrying with me for the past five years to go away. It may have lessened its grip on me slightly now that I know that a child was involved, but it doesn’t clean the slate.

“You stayed because you feel what I feel.”

“What you feel?” I question back.

“You know what I’m talking about.” His piercing green eyes lock on my face.

I shrug both shoulders. There’s no way in hell I’ll confess to feeling anything but anger for him. “I don’t.”

“What do you feel when you look at me?” He crosses his arms over his chest. I don’t know if he’s doing it to show off his impressive biceps under the black Tin Anchor T-shirt he’s wearing or if it’s a defensive stance.

I scrub my hand over my forehead. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do.” He exhales harshly. “Tell me what you feel.”

I tilt forward on the bar stool so I can lower my voice to barely more than a whisper. “I’m pissed that you left me and never bothered looking back. You made me feel like shit, Gage.”