6
Shit.
Fucking shit.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
The look on her face—absolute disgust.
The first full, unbidden, carefree smile I’ve gotten from her—the kind I’ve been craving for weeks—was ruined after only minutes. Replaced with something hard and dark. Something like hatred.
By the time Madam Callier announced me as the winner and presented me with a giant check for two-thousand dollars, Bailey wouldn’t even make eye contact with me anymore. She acted like I wasn’t even there. Like I was fucking nothing to her.
Then she left with some big guy’s arm draped over her shoulder.
I’ve texted her five times in the last hour since leaving Bakery On Main. The first two were read, and then the rest got nothing.
If she’d just fucking let me explain.
“Earth to Riggs,” Talia giggles from the opposite side of the booth. “The server wants to know if you want to order an appetizer first, or just stick with the pizza.”
Talia insisted on us going out to celebrate my win. I said yes because I’ve got nothing else to do. It’s not like I can chase after Bailey. I don’t even know where she lives.
I send the server an apologetic smile before saying, “Just the pizza. I’m not that hungry.” He writes down the order and scurries away.
“Since when are you not hungry?” Talia asks with a laugh. “Usually, you’ll eat the whole pizza without even saving me a slice. I have to fight for it.”
I shrug. “It’s my off-season. I’m not training as much, resting my arm, so I don’t want to overdo the calories.”
It’s a shit excuse, but she buys it. The truth is, I can’t get my head off Bailey. My gut is swirling and anything I put in it is at risk of coming right back up.
“You did so good today,” Talia beams. “You worked so hard. You should be proud! Why are you acting like someone stole your favorite baseball mitt?”
I shrug. “Just feeling off, is all. It’s fine.”
Tal reaches over the table and places her hand over mine. I grit my teeth and resist the urge to move it. “Is it Odette?”
“No,” I cut her off quickly. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
Her gaze is warm and concerned, and I feel a stab of guilt. Talia cares, she does. She doesn’t deserve this, so I smile. “It’s fine, Tal. Seriously.” I put my other hand over hers and give it a squeeze before pulling both of mine away. “No worries, okay?”
“Okay.” She’s unsure, but for my sake, she’ll drop it.
“So,” she chirps, changing the subject with an upbeat voice and a wide smile, “what are you going to do with the prize money?”
“Dunno. It’s not like I need it. Maybe I’ll donate it to the rec center or my mom’s charity.”
“Those are both great ideas.” Talia is glowing, her eyes full of hero worship and reverence. She thinks she knows me, thinks I’m still the same guy from our childhood, but I’m not.
Hell, I’m not even the same guy from last year.
My mind strays back to Bailey. Yet another woman I’ve deceived. Tricked. Betrayed. I tell myself it was unintentional, a product of miscommunication, but deep down, I know that’s a lie. I had plenty of opportunities to open up, but I chose not to. Just like she stayed tight-lipped about herself.
But if she would just let me explain...
The server comes by with our pizza and refills our pops, and luckily for me, Talia’s attention shifts off me. I get her talking about her classes, her dance recital prep, the charity gala her mom is planning. I keep the focus on her, so by the time I drop her off at her apartment, I can almost pretend that everything is okay.
But then I check my phone and see that my last three texts are still unread, and like an asshole, I send one more. Hoping like hell she hasn’t blocked me. Because I just need a chance to explain.
I’m supposed to meet the guys at the baseball house for a party, but I’m just not in the mood, so I head back to my townhouse. I kick off my shoes, grab a beer from the fridge, and I call my mom to report on the contest. I end up having to leave a message with Ms. Beth, and I make her promise to have Mom call me back when she gets it, no matter what time.
Then I text Bailey once more, but when that text goes unread like the last three, my emotions go from worried to irritated, apologetic to offended. Who is she to just blow me off like this without giving me the benefit of the doubt? I know how it looked, but I thought I’d earned at least a little consideration over the last few weeks. I guess not.
And this is why I don’t fuck around.
If she’s gonna shut down and make assumptions, then fine. She brought some third-string baller to the contest, and she’s gonna act like this about Talia?
Fine.
I’ll let her.
Good fucking riddance.
* * *