Page 26 of The Summer We Played Pretend

I suck in a breath and fix Brendan with my steeliest look, drawing myself up to my full height. "History is exactly what you are," I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You don't call her. You don't text her. You don't even think about her. Because if I hear you've so much as breathed in Chloe's direction again, I promise you'll regret it."

Brendan's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. "You can't—"

"I can, and I will," I cut him off, my tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm not some high school kid you can push around. Test me on this, and you'll find out exactly how serious I am."

A nearby waiter drops a plate, the crash momentarily breaking the tension. When I look back at Brendan, I see it—real fear flashing across his face. Good.

"We done here?" I ask, not really expecting an answer.

Brendan takes a step back, his earlier bravado completely evaporated. "Yeah... we're done," he mutters, unable to meet my gaze.

As I turn to leave, a small part of me feels guilty for the intensity of the threat. But then I think of Chloe putting up with that crap and I know I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

I push through the swinging doors of the restaurant, taking in the fresh air and trying to still my racing pulse.

A couple walks by, hand in hand, reminding me of all the times I've wanted to reach for Chloe's hand but stopped myself. She's Jake's little sister. Off-limits. But after everything that's happened...

I pull out my phone, thumb hovering over Chloe's name in my contacts. I should check on her, make sure she's alright. But what would I even say?

Hey, Chlo. Just threatened your ex. Hope that's cool.

Yeah, that'd go over well. Just what she needs. Some macho shit on top of Brendan’s harassment.

Instead, I type out a simple message:You free to talk later?

As I hit send, I make a silent promise. No matter what happens between us, I'll always be there for her. To protect her, support her, and make her laugh when she needs it most.

Because that's what you do for the people you...care about. Right?

I shove my phone back in my pocket and head back to work.

"About time you showed up," Dad calls out as I push through the door. He's bent over the engine of Mrs. Grayson's ancient Volvo, grease smeared across his forehead. “That was a long lunch."

"Sorry," I mutter, grabbing my work shirt from the hook. "Had to take care of something."

Dad eyes me suspiciously. "Everything all right, son?"

I hesitate, wrestling with how much to tell him. "Yeah, just...Chloe stuff."

His expression softens. "Ah. She doing okay?"

"She will be," I say firmly, more to convince myself than him. "I'll make sure of it."

As I slide under a car, I can't shake the image of Brendan's smug face. The guy's a total jerk, but he had one thing right—I'm just a grease monkey from the wrong side of town with a bad history. She’s a smart, beautiful girl ready to take on the world. What could I possibly offer Chloe?

I stare at the underside of the car and try not to picture anything other than what exists, right here, right now. I guess all I can offer for now is whatever Chloe needs— friend, protector, or something more—I'll be there. No matter the cost to myself.

Chapter Twelve

Chloe

Iknot the strings of my apron around my waist and head out into the restaurant like I do on any other shift, but today something feels off, like there’s tension in the busy restaurant. That's when I spot him.

Brendan.

What’s he doing here?We weren’t meant to work together today. I made sure of it when I swapped shifts with Marcy last week. Yet there he is, moving between the tables with that same easy confidence that once made my heart flutter. Now, just seeing him makes me feel sick.

"Ignore him,” I whisper to myself, tugging the apron a little tighter as if that could somehow armor me against his presence. I was bound to have to work with him eventually.

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