Page 221 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

“Okay,” I echoed.

“Okay,” George said a third time. He stood there for a second, mouth opening and closing—then he sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay.” He sounded defeated, disappointed in himself, and I wasn’t sure why. George stalked off before we could get any more awkward, and I watched him go, chest squeezing tight.

Why couldn’t I…

Why couldn’t I keep him?

You know why,I reminded myself.

There’s a reason you only offered a temporary relationship.

You don’t want him to get sick of you, do you?

“Fuck.” I groaned, fingers biting into my hair and tugging. He was out of sight now, and that loss nearly sent me right to my knees.

Dad was happy as he’d climbed into the back seat. The flower on his lapel had wilted, as had mine, and his usually impeccable hair was disheveled. There was an air of exhaustion about him, but that wasn’t unusual. What was, however, was the fact it had been caused by happiness, rather than healing.

He was getting better.

Able to move about now—no bruises in sight.

“This is a refreshing change of pace.” He hummed a jaunty tune to himself, buckling up with a prim wiggle. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d put yourself first. And I haveGeorgeto thank for it. New favorite son status: achieved.”

I groaned. “Please don’t.” I leaned my head against the steering wheel. “Don’t make jokes like that. I just—fuck.”

“Alex…” Dad blinked, nonchalant as ever. “You haven’t told him you want to keep dating him, have you? I’m surprised. Considering you’re totally inseparable, even when you aren’t fucking like rabbits.”

“JesusChrist.” So he knew aboutthatthen. I blamed Martin. Or June? Fuck. Maybe both of them. Everyone. I blamed everyone—myself included. It wasn’t like I tried to hide how into George I was—or like I’d been particularly sneaky about our nighttime escapades. Last night I’d had less than zero fucks to give.

It was still embarrassing to get called out by my dad though. Especially when he was giving me theseknowinglooks—like he understood that this was different for me, even without me outright admitting it.

My cheeks went hot and I glanced out the window, making sure George wasn’t approaching. I was terrified he might overhear. “It…I mean. He’s?—”

“Only here for the wedding, I know.” Dad’s voice was sad. “You know, once I?—”

“Do not take this opportunity to tell me about your many flings, please. It’s not as motivating as you think.”

“I wasn’t going to—” Dad laughed, wry and soft. He was notoriously a bachelor. His reputation preceded him wherever we went—a fact that was not at all embarrassing. Nope. Totally not. “Okay, maybe I was. But I was only trying to reassure you that long-distance is a totally viable option.”

“I don’t need advice,” I sighed, even though I kind of did. Laying my head back on the cool steering wheel, I took a moment to breathe. “I know what I need to do. I just…need to stop being a fucking bitch and do it.”

I needed to drop George off at the airport.

Needed to let this be what we’d agreed it was.

Needed to stop wanting more.

Needed to?—

“It’s okay to be scared, Alex,” Dad’s hand was warm against my back. Apparently he’d leaned between the seats, because his voice was louder too. It felt good in a way only a loving parent’s reassurance could. “Trusting people can be terrifying.”

“Stooop.”

I knew that better than anyone. I hadn’t trusted anyone outside my family in years. Roderick, yes, but only because I could see how much June loved him. Aside from that, I’d never let myself open up. Not the way I had with George. And that was fucking terrifying.

When I was with George, all the “masks” I wore fell away. If he ended up rejecting me, it meant I wasn’t good enough. That I reallywastoo much. That the last shred of hope I had left would wither and die.

And if that happened?

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