Page 102 of Ignite

You left it too late to take mum to the doctors. You left it too late to save your business. Now, you’ve left it too late to win the girl. Can you see the pattern?

Can you?

Sometimes, I wished my inner voice had been drowned at birth. Telling me what I already knew, didn’t help.

Thinking about yesterday only drove me to order a second drink. Beer, this time so I could find a reason to stop from turning out of the carpark and head north to the safety of Sydney. I needed the tinge of alcoholic buzz so I could unpack what I hated to face—feelings. I needed to dull my inner voice and recap the last twenty-four hours with Rylee.

It had taken me weeks to build up the courage to put my feelings on the line with Rylee. Taking the beautiful job she’d done on my ute as a sign that she might actually give a damn and feel the same, I’d pulled up my big-boy pants and turned up to her home, unannounced.

That had been the last sensible thing I’d done.

But from there, the list of mistakes seemed never-ending. I’d arrived, intent on seducing her dress off. After she’d invited me inside, I felt we had a moment to take this thing between us to another level. Except, her ex had to decide to pick that moment to turn up and mess things up.

I replayed the scene in my head, with a different ending. Instead of getting jealous and pissy, I should have stood my ground. After Darin fell against the coffee table, I should have taken the ice for my fist before taking my cues from Rylee. I could have talked, man-to-man with Darin and helped him to realize his life with Rylee was no longer an option.

In my imaginary do-over, I made copious cups of coffee to help Rylee sober Darin up before driving him to wherever the hell he needed to be.

I could have done a stack of things, made a shitload of different decisions.

Instead, I’d acted like a dick.

I’d gotten my ego bruised, spat the dummy, packed my bat and ball, and fled the scene of the crime.

Too many metaphors, even for me. They all boiled down to one thing—

I knew Rylee.

I should have trusted Rylee.

Not once did she flirt with any other man or indicate she was interested in any man other than me. Even the whole auction thing had been doing Reece a favor. She was his sister from another mister and I’d been a jealous idiot not to see it sooner.

Rylee had proved time and time again she was a solid business-woman who didn’t put money above people. She’d taken her father’s legacy to heart, no matter how many hours that meant helping keep her cousin on track, or the local RFS trucks on the road.

She’d never lied to me; never deceived me.

So why would I have jumped to the conclusion she’d given her ex a second chance? When I replayed the scene in slow motion, I’d turned up. We’d kissed. Darin had turned up, unannounced and drunk. I’d been annoyed because after getting my ute back, I had turned up to thank her, dressed to impress—

Just like Rylee.

Fuck. I dropped my head to the table and pounded it until I could see sense. In a relationship defined by misunderstandings and miscommunications, this one took the cake.

Rylee hadn’t gotten dressed up to do paperwork. She knew I’d drop by to thank her in person and had gotten dressed up for me.

It all made sense, now. Rylee wouldn’t let her worst enemy drive home drunk.

Of course, she’d invite him in and sober him up. Of course, she’d be the bigger person and call the woman he’d screwed around with, to send the asshole home to the right bed.

Of course, Darin had to leave his car behind to have a sleepover.

My ego had overridden my cock and brain.

Even when she’d tracked me down at the high school gym, I hadn’t taken the stick out of my ass long enough to listen to her. No, I’d acted like a prize dickwad and insulted her in front of the team.

My team, her friends.

I’d fucked up big time with the potential love of my life, before we’d had a chance for a first date do-over.

With nothing but time and brain cells to kill, I motioned for another beer. Lunch, liquid courage, and then I’d find Rylee and—apologize.

---