Page 15 of Only You and Me

I whirled around and faced her. “You’re fucking embarrassed to be dating me.”

I slipped my sweatshirt over my head and moved toward the bedroom door. Fuck, I’d forgotten my socks. Screw it. I’d live without them, even if I had to traipse through the December snow. I had to get out of there.

“No. Please let me explain. Give me a chance to find the words.”

I stopped for a second at the door. My heart said listen to her. She was finally ready to talk. But my pride said let her see how it felt to be on the losing end of this fight. My pride won.

“No.”

Then I stomped my way out of her apartment, and we’ve only communicated in texts for the last few days. Short, choppy texts with no substance.

She messaged earlier today and asked to see me or talk on the phone, and I said I was too busy. Surely, she’d see how it felt and experience a little of what I did when she declined to come to my parents’.

She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I watch as she goes to the counter and sits, apparently needing to wait for her pickup order to be ready. When some of my classmates invited me to Pat’s for dinner, I agreed, hoping it would keep me from giving in and making up with Trina too quickly. But it’s been aggravating so far. One of our female classmates, Joy, brought a few friends and one of them has been super flirty with me tonight. I’m not in the mood for it. Or at least I wasn’t until Trina walked in.

The girl is sitting on the chair next to me, so I reach across and pull her onto my lap. At first, she looks confused, but then must decide she doesn’t care what caused my change of heart and starts running her fingers through my hair. I hate how it feels—completely wrong because it’s not supposed to be her. But I let her keep them there anyway, and I wait.

It only takes a minute or two for Trina to glance around the dining area and do a double take when her eyes land on me. I watch as the color drains from her face and she clutches at her stomach. The girl in my lap whispers something in my ear. I don’t even comprehend what she says because I’m not really listening and I smile and rub my hand up and down her back, wanting to make sure Trina gets a show. Wanting her to storm over and lay her claim to me.

Only she doesn’t. She doesn’t even wait for her food and instead, jumps up off her stool and runs out the door. Fuck. That is not how I saw this going.

I push the girl off my lap, throw a twenty-dollar bill on the table, and take off out of the diner after Trina. At first, I don’t see her and when I do, she’s at her car door, one hand holding the back of her neck and the other over her forehead. I run over to where she is.

“Trina, wait!” I’m panting by the time I reach her.

She spins around to face me, and I see the tears streaming from her eyes. My heart cracks down the middle. When she turns back to her car, she fumbles with her keys for several seconds and her shaking hands finally get the key to work. I panic. She’s really going to leave. When she opens the door and climbs in. I do the only thing I can think of and grab the car door by the frame to prevent her from pulling it closed. She starts her car anyway.

“Let go,” she growls. She refuses to look at me, staring straight ahead.

“No. We need to talk about us.”

Her head whips up to look at me so quickly I wouldn’t be surprised if she strained her neck muscles. Her eyes are wide, her jaw slack.

“What are you talking about? There is no us. Remember? And if there was before today, there definitely isn’t anymore.” Her voice shakes with anger and her eyes, those gorgeous eyes that usually look at me with such warmth—right now, they’re cold, hard.

“Babe, don’t overreact.”

“Let go of my car door. Now. I’m done. This”—she gestures between us—“is done.”

“What? No.” I step back slightly, confused about how this is backfiring so badly.

Then I make my last mistake. I lift both of my hands to grasp my head, and she sees her chance and slams the door, locking it before I realize what’s happening. Since there is no one parked in front of her, she pulls away before I can think of how to stop her.

“Hey,” Jack says, pushing me in the arm. “Where’d you just go in that head of yours? I’ve told you twice they announced it’s time to go to your table for dinner and you’re all spaced out.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Thinking about a work thing.” Shit, now I’m lying to my brother. The only person—besides my mom—I’ve ever told anything about the time I got to be with the woman I loved. What I’ve never told them is what happened that last night. The last night Trina ever spoke to me unless she had to. The night she quit answering any of my texts or calls.

I take a deep breath and rise from my seat. I’ve lost my chance with Trina, and I’ve mourned it for years.

But a few weeks ago, after coming to the epiphany about what that night in the diner really was about, I realized I owe Trina Flynn an explanation and an apology. One that’s about nine and a half years overdue.

CHAPTER4

BEN

My hands tremble as I approach the table where Trina sits, waiting for our “date.” I thought this idea was so clever when it occurred to me last week. Contribute to a good cause and get Trina locked down for an hour where she can’t—or shouldn’t—walk away. But now, I’m really questioning what the hell I was thinking.

When I arrive at the table, I clear my throat, and she looks up from her phone and gives me a tight smile that doesn’t meet her eyes before she sets her phone down on the table.

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