Page 73 of No More Bad Boys
Oh no. He’snotgoing to let me say it. I’ve waited too late. He’s too angry.
Well, Whitney warned me, and I vowed not to let his justified bitterness stop me. So I step to the side, into his field of vision, and ask again.
“Can we please go somewhere and talk?”
Now he deigns to look at me. All conversation at the table has stopped, so his answer is loud and clear.
“Wearesomewhere. What do you want, Cadence?”
The beautiful green eyes I’ve swooned over are dark and hard-looking. Their disdainful stare erases every word of the eloquent speech I’ve memorized.
All I’ve got left is a spontaneous ramble. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain. And I don’t even care about the thing with Kenley anymore. I just… I miss you.”
He sits there, blank-faced, unmoving. Unmoved.
It’s not working.
Suddenly I remember the main gist of my prepared speech. “And… I’ve decided that youarethe logical choice for me—you were all along, because we’re actually perfect for each other. We balance each other out. I realized… if Kirk and Spock didn’t have each other, the ship would’ve gone down in a fiery blaze of space junk, like a hundred times.”
The reaction I hoped for doesn’t happen.
Instead, he stares at me like I’m a total geek—which of course I am—as proven by my Trekkie love sonnet.
Finally, he says something. “That may be true… but I’m not sure anymore that you’re thelogicalchoice for me. I need to be with someone who’s willing to trust me. Someone who loves me.”
“But I do trust you. And Idolove you. That’s why I’m here.”
“No. You’re here because you thought it through and made a decision. You made one of your little pros and cons lists, weighed the options, put us through one of your scientific formulas and decided that the equation makessense. For now. You don’t love me because you don’tbelievein love—not the way I do. You can turn it off and on whenever you want to… and I need someone who can’thelploving me, even when I screw up.”
He lifts his shoulders and lets them fall, looking sad and defeated. “I want illogical love. I want it all—or I’d rather have nothing. It hurts too much otherwise.”
Whitney warned me he was angry. She didn’t say his heart had turned to stone.
What more can I do? I thought I was demonstrating to him that Icouldn’tjust turn it off by coming here tonight, humbling myself, and begging him in front of everyone.
But it didn’t work.
I stand in front of the table, frozen in place until my co-workers begin to clear their throats and raise their brows.
Gabe’s blinking in rapid-fire pace, apparently trying not to look at me. Alissa starts to giggle.
Finally, I turn and shuffle off to the bar to find Kenley. Thank God she offered to drive me, because as blank as my brain is right now, I’d never find my way home.
All I can think isI’ve lost him. It’s really over.
I’ve lost him.
The dying whale is finally squealing the last painful strains of her song—thank God. All I need to go with my bleeding heart is a raging headache.
I’m tempted to cover my ears as I pass the large speaker broadcasting her final note. And then I stop and stare at the stage.
I want illogical love. I need someone who can’t help loving me.
Blake’s words rush back at me as a desperate plan forms in my mind. Turning in a circle, I search for the sound engineer or whoever’s responsible for running the karaoke show.
I spot him in a raised booth at the back of the bar and make my way through the crowd toward him. Climbing the small set of stairs up to his booth, I poke my head in.
The guy startles and drops his paperback—a thriller I’d guess from the gun and police tape on the cover.
