Page 36 of Sweet Spot

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chase

Macy had sat so stillin the passenger seat, looking so small and sad, that it made me feel as if I'd taken an ice cold fist to the gut. I got out to walk her up to the house, but she raced to the door, trying to avoid me. I pulled her bag out and set it on the porch as she shuffled through her purse for the keys.

"Macy, that's just guy talk. We're a bunch of idiots, you know that."

"Thank you, Chase," I heard a small sniffle, and the sound of it went straight into my chest.

"Can't we at least talk about it?"

She found her keys and stared down at them for a second. I saw her shoulders lift with a deep breath and braced myself as she turned around. Her brown eyes were glassy, and I wanted to kick myself. The last thing she needed was to be hurt again by a thoughtless asshole, and I'd stepped right into her ex's asshole sized shoes.

"It's fine, Chase. I was under no illusion that I would ever fit into your world. And this is for the best. I'm busy trying to make a go of things with a business, and frankly, having you around was putting a wrench in things. Now I can get back to concentrating on Sweet Spot. Good luck with your version of Sweet Spot." With that, she picked up her bag and went inside.

I stood on the front stoop staring at the faded paint on the front door for a good long minute.

"Fuck."

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