Page 32 of Just the Tipsy
“You want to try something a little sweet?” he asks. “I’m not sure what dairy-free options they have, though.”
“We can look.”
We go over to a booth a few spots down that has donuts and some vegan options. The crowd has gotten bigger, so the line is winding all the way into the flow of foot traffic.
“Want me to grab a table?” he asks. “I see a free one over there.”
“Sure, yeah.”
He tells me to just get any donut with chocolate and disappears. I check on the social media posts that I put up, then check an email from Kaitlyn. She’s excited to get started, but knows I still need time. But I don’t want to leave her waiting for too long.
I take a deep breath and tuck my phone back into my purse. Everything is so open-ended. Now I’m here to fake date Waylon for at least another two months, but after that, it’s all unclear. Will I feel more ready to dive into an entirely new life by then?
I step up to the front of the line and order our treats — donuts for him, and a vegan donut for me. The donut is surprisingly good and not crumbly dust. Not too sweet either.
I turn and scan the crowd to find Waylon, but stop dead when I see him. He’s talking to a woman and the pure ice between them takes my breath away. Clearly, they know eachother, just from how close together they’re standing. Or rather, how close the woman is standing to him. Waylon’s body language is standoffish. The woman flicks her dark brown hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms over her chest.
I can’t read her lips, but whatever she says pisses Waylon off. His eyes narrow and fill with anger, then hurt.
Whoever this woman is, she can get fucked.
I march over, trying to pull myself together so I don’t tear her a new butthole from the jump. Instead, I plaster on a smile and lightly squeeze Waylon’s bicep.
“Babe, I got the donuts,” I say, my voice overly sweet. He can probably tell I’m being over the top, but this woman doesn’t know me. “Sorry, who is this?”
The woman looks me up and down in that bitchy mean girl who’s going to be fake nice kind of way. I hate her even more now, even though that’s extreme. Waylon radiates patience and kindness, so anyone who can smack that out of him must be a shitty person.
“Catherine.” She extends her hand and gives me a limp handshake. “And who are you?”
“Bianca,” I say. “His girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend.” Catherine narrows her eyes at me, then at Waylon. “That’s new.”
“It is.” Waylon takes the donuts and puts them on the long picnic table. “Not that it’s your business anymore.”
She half-rolls her eyes. “We can’t magically erase the past.”
“But you can ignore it, can’t you?” I ask, getting between her and Waylon so I can sit on the bench. She steps back, eyes widening. I didn’t touch her, but she looks like she’s been slapped. “Super sorry, but we’re kind of in the middle of our date. Can’t this wait?”
Catherine’s cheeks get red as she stares at me, but I don’t back down. It helps that I’m several inches taller than her, so justgetting a little close to her makes her back up. Waylon’s hand rests on my shoulder, his thumb brushing the back of my neck.
“Whatever.” She leaves and Waylon’s body relaxes behind me.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, taking a seat across from me. “She snuck up on me.”
He takes a bite of his donut, his mood still low. I eat too, unsure of what to even say.
“Your ex?” I finally say, even though I know the answer.
“Yep.” He sighs through his nose and throws back the rest of his drink, his nose wrinkling.
His expression has gone from hurt to blank, which is almost more disturbing. I got the sense that he and his ex didn’t end of good terms since he said he wasn’t about relationships these days, but they must have ended onhorridterms. I can’t imagine him being with someone like her. I get that people change, and from what I understand, it’s been several years since they’ve been together.
But even seeing them side by side feels odd. She just seems like a mean person.
I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, as nosy as I am, so I nudge him with my knee instead of asking him more.
“Do you want to try some of the rides?” I ask.
