Page 19 of His North Star
I waved him off, heading for the kitchen. Before I reached the end of the hallway, he grabbed my arm, twisting me to face him.
His expression was soft. “How’s your head this morning?”
Now he was worried about me? I narrowed my eyes. “No worse than when Corbin Haynes pushed me off the slide in the third grade.”
He dropped his hand. “I forgot about that.” He shook his head. “James really knows how
to make an entrance.”
“Yeah, he does.” And not only due to the door incident. His features needed to be memorialized in statue form. Or a painting, for my eyes only.
Nope. Stop thinking about him. If I wasn’t good enough for Blake, no way would I be good enough for James.
“Speaking of James, why did you get all”—I waved my hand at his face—“when we were talking last night?”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.” He brushed past me toward the door.
“You’re so full of it,” I accused. I wasn’t actually mad at Ty. But my embarrassment had me reaching onto this lifeline of anger. Better that than humiliation.
He glanced back, pseudo-offended.
I crossed my arms. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire. “Do you remember the whole hooker thing?” I said to jog his memory.
“Oh, that,” he drawled. “Yeah, I didn’t want you to sound like a floozy.”
Way to hold back, Ty. A knife twisted into my heart. Time to add another item to my list of failures. I sputtered. “It’s called flirting. You ever heard of it?”
“He knows you know all about rugby because of me. You pretending you didn’t know there was a hooker position made yourflirtingsubpar.”
“Subpar? Seriously? Look at you acting like you’re some pro at it and you get to judge me.”
He shook his head. “You’re taking this way out of perspective. And as much as I’d love to stay and fight with you, I really have to get to work.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” I replied like a teenager. I didn’t like fighting, especially with Ty. But, come on. He was totally being weird last night. The least he could do was own it. Even if I was pushing the issue more than it called for.
I was snuggled on my couch watching a show when my phone buzzed with a text. An unknown number flashed on the notification. I tapped the message and sharply inhaled when I realized who it was.
Unknown:I’m sorry about last night. I feel awful about hurting you and ending our night early. Can I take you out for the dessert we missed out on?
James followed through with Ty about my number. I wasn’t sure if I was flattered or annoyed. My fingers hovered over my phone keyboard. Should I text him back? Ignore it? My throat closed up, as if telling me to stay silent. Ugh, why were things so difficult?
I quickly tapped out a response.Me:I just came out of a relationship, and I’m not interested in anything serious.
James:Hmmm. Does that mean no dessert? [thinking emoji]
Did he not care about what I just told him?
Me:As friends? I guess we can grab a treat sometime.
He probably only wanted to go out because he felt guilty that he hurt me. I’d let him clear his conscience. We would part as pals and maybe bump into each other at Ty’s on occasion. Case closed.
James:What days are good for you?
Me:How’s Wednesday?
