Page 88 of How to Get Revenge on a Cheating Ex
For one crazy second, I’m tempted to steal a kiss. Screw the consequences. Forget the old couple and what they’d think if I launched myself into his arms.
I don’t even care that there’s a surveillance camera trained on us right this very second.
See? Progress. I might still be a goody two shoes, but I’m learning how to unwind that tension in me that tells me I have to be perfect in order to be loved.
My lips part with a gasp as that thought echoes and ricochets in my skull.
I have to be perfect to be loved.Is that what I thought?
That I had to be perfect to be accepted? To be wanted?
I frown at Zack’s chest as I try to sift through my own messed up brain. Is that really what I’d thought?
Huh. Janie would have a field day with that one.
But the realization makes something shift and click into place. Like I just rearranged the same puzzle pieces that had been baffling me for weeks, and now they make sense.
They fit.
The anxiety. The need to be the best. The draw toward Grayson, a guy who saw my insecurities and used them to his advantage.
He understood my need to please better than anyone. Grayson got it. He fed off it.
And he manipulated it.
He manipulatedme.
God, it’s so obvious.
“Bailey? You okay?” Zack’s voice is gentle and I shake off the stunned expression that has him frowning down at me in concern.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I say. “I’m good.”
His lips curve up a bit and I know he’s thinking about teasing me for saying that phrase again. He and Toni spent the better part of lunch doing imitations of me saying that while wearing big, creepy grins because they’re so hilarious like that.
But right now Zack doesn’t tease and he doesn’t laugh. “You sure?”
I take a deep breath. “Positive.”
“So then...” He pauses as the bell signals that the old couple left, the other customers right behind them.
And we’re alone. He moves closer to me. So close I could lift a hand and touch him. And I know without a doubt that’s all it would take and he’d pull me into his arms and kiss me.
The conversation would be over.
It’s tempting. Very, very tempting.
But when I look up, I’m blindsided by his seriousness. “If you’re so fine and good, do you want to explain why you feel this burning need to go to the party this weekend?”
I press my lips together. Do I want to explain? Not really. But there’s no getting away from Zack. We have another two hours left of this shift, and while he might be easygoing about most things, when he truly cares, he’s more stubborn than I am.
Also, we’ve been doing this honesty thing lately, and I don’t want to be the one to screw that up.
But, then again, he’s going to hate the real reason. So I give evasion one more shot, and try for a casual shrug. “Everyone’s going to be there.”
“Errr.” He makes an obnoxious buzzer sound like I got the wrong answer on a game show. “Try again.”
I purse my lips, torn between amusement and annoyance. “I just want to go, that’s all.”
