Page 54 of For Fox Sake

“Why?”

I swallow, mouth dry. “At first I was surprised when you weren’t a dude, and then I wasn’t sure if I should just ask or if I should wait to see if we were related?—”

“You thought we were related?” Her voice is shrill.

I wince.

“How did you—if you just made the connection about the heart transplant today, how long did you think we were related and how did you figure out we weren’t? Assuming you kissed me after you determined we were,” she waves a hand, “genetically variant.”

I rub my chin. “Well, that’s a funny story, actually.” I frown. I do not want to tell her about digging through her trash.

Damn. I really messed this up.

I stare out the windshield into the dark street, struggling to find the right words to explain why I’m a complete moron.

But then she speaks in hushed tones.

“Is that why you’re doing all this?” Her voice breaks on the last word. Her eyes are wide, mouth turned down.

“Doing all what?”

“Pretending to like me.”

Something in my chest cracks. “No. No. Not at all it’s not?—”

Her back straightens. “You lied to me.”

I can’t deny it. But... “I also told you truths I’ve never shared with anyone else.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

I have no response.

Her eyes are wet and full of hurt and it’s my fault.

Without another word, she picks her shirt up from the seat between us and slips out of the car, shutting the door behind her without force, like it’s a normal end to the night and she’s going inside and my whole world hasn’t just been smashed to pieces because of my own bad choices.

Fuck.

I sit in the car for a few minutes, maybe longer, just staring out the window. My body aches with the guilt. This hurts. I wish I could escape into a bottle of something strong and stinging, but I immediately push the thought aside. When you have a problem and you drink, now you have two problems. I know this. I’ve learned this. I’m better than this, even if right now, it’s hard to believe.

Eventually, I get out of the truck and walk across the street toward my rental.

There’s an unfamiliar car parked out front. A dark midsize sedan.

And movement on my front porch.

“Are you hooking up with your neighbor?” a familiar voice calls out.

Shock halts me in my tracks. “Finley?”

Chapter Fifteen

Jake

“You didn’t have to come all the way out here.” I sit on the couch.

Finley hands me a mug of tea and plops down beside me.

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