Page 46 of I Knew You Were Trouble

“Look,” he says after we’ve settled on a bench in the park, hot cocoa giving my hands feeling again. He lifts his wrist, showing me his watch. “It’s 10:31.”

“I know.” I grin big over my cup. “I’m breaking all sorts of rules now.”

“Such a rebel.”

I give him a playful punch to the arm. “Don’t make fun. Don’t you like this bizarro world Candace?”

His grin falters, and he rests his gaze on a few trees adorned in Christmas lights. “I don’t know why you didn’t like this world’s.”

“Seriously?” I snort. Normal Candace wouldn’t have done any of the stuff I did today. Pride rips strong in my chest, though that could be the cocoa.

“Yeah.” He meets my eyes. “She’s always been fun to work with.”

“You are lying straight through those whipped cream covered teeth.”

He licks his lips free from the whipped topping, and I can’t seem to stop grinning from ear to ear. It feels good to conquer something violet level… almost like I aced a test.

Carolers start singing from across the park, their voices a beautiful soundtrack to an already amazing night.

“So…?” Pete nudges, and I furrow my brow.

“What?”

He lets out a sigh. “What’s so wrong about being yourself?”

Oh. I didn’t realize he was actually asking. I stare down at my cocoa cup, running a finger around the rim. “It’s… lonely, I guess.” Not the answer I want to admit, but it’s honest. “Not many people can tolerate someone who is always pointing out flaws or rule-breaking.”

“True,” he says, and I go to sock him one, but he dodges me. “But that’s their problem, isn’t it?”

“See?” I tilt my head. “I can’t even do that.”

“Do what?”

“Think that way. I can’t brush off someone’s intolerance of me. It’s like I somehow deserve their acceptance simply by existing. There’s something wrong inside of me that needs fixing, and I can pinpoint it down to my lack of flexibility. Hence the rebelessons.”

He blows out a breath across his hot cocoa, the steam rising from his cup into the night sky. “All for a guy.”

“Yes,” I say with conviction, but the look on his face makes me want to take it back. “Maybe. He’s part of it.” All true. If it weren’t for his flat out ‘you’re not my type,’ I wouldn’t have realized just how much I’mnobody’stype.

“Have you never been rejected before?” Pete twists toward me, hitching his leg up on the bench. His knee grazes my thigh, sending a comforting yet surprising wave of uncertainty through me.

“Never had the chance.” Before Zach, I never put myself out there. High school I was known as the Virgin Mary. Most guys sought after me as a challenge—gag—and I never gave them the time of day. The guys I did like told me flat out what a nark I was. College was a chance to start anew, but I can’t seem to find my footing, and it’s been two years. “Like I said, being good ol’ Candace is lonely.”

Pete’s brow furrows, his lips turning downward. He turns toward the gorgeous holiday scene we have before us, and for once, I seem to have struck him speechless.

Disappointment crawls through my stomach like a tiny bug snacking on kitchen leftovers. Pete’s always up for an argument, but when it comes to telling him how off-putting my personality is, he’s got nothing up his sleeve.

“If it’s any consolation,” he says, breaking the silence and squashing that bug in my stomach, “even at your most annoying, I’ve always liked you.”

“Even when I pester you about this?” I tap his forearm where I know his tattoo rests underneath the layers of fabric. “Or your hat? Or your shirt that isnever tucked in? I swear you do it just to irritate me.”

“Candace…” He shakes his head. “I only give crap to people I like.”

“Wow. You must like me a lot.”

“Very true.” He casts his gaze to the clouds, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “We should probably get your car.”

“Huh?” My brain is stuck on what he said before. He likes me a lot? Like how much is a lot?

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