Page 135 of The Rebound
“I didn’t know he was coming,” I say eventually. “Luke? I swear I—”
“I know,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very reassuring. He gazes at the spot where Tyler disappeared. “Were you just saying that? That you’re in love with me?”
“No.”
“Right.” He takes a breath to speak, seems to think the better of it, and then tries again. “It’s just you can’t just go around making grand proclamations like that.”
“I know.”
“Words mean something.”
“Iknow,” I say. “I know they do. I wanted to tell you before now but I couldn’t. I kept chickening out because this thing between us felt so new.” I hate the expression on his face, like he’s trying to hide his feelings from me. Or trying to figure them out himself. “I meant it,” I say. “I didn’t say it just because I wanted to get rid of him.”
“But do you? Do you want to get rid of him?”
“Yes.How can you ask that?”
“How can I not? You were engaged to him.”
“Before he broke it off, remember?”
“Doesheremember?” He frowns. “Are you going to take that job?”
“I already said I wasn’t.”
“You said that to him. Now, I’m asking you.”
“And it’s the same answer. I’m not going to take it.”
“But you’ll go eventually.” He shakes his head when I don’t respond. “Do you even know anymore?”
“That’s unfair,” I say, a sharp note entering my voice. “A lot has happened and it’s a big decision. You can’t expect me to make it that quickly.” I cross my arms as the rain falls heavier. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to say something to me?”
“What?”
“I told you I loved you, Luke, or did you forget about that already?”
He watches me for a long second. “I didn’t forget,” he says finally.
Embarrassment rushes through me, swift and all-consuming. “Right. I just thought…” I stumble backward, slipping slightly in the wet earth. The sudden urge to put space between us is overwhelming. “Whatever. It’s raining. I need to get back to Louise.”
“You’re not,” he calls after me.
“What?”
He almost looks pained. “You’re not in love with me.”
“I’m not? Oh!” I laugh, sounding a little manic. “Great! Thanks for clearing that up for me.”
“You can’t be,” he insists. “I know what I am to you.”
“And what’s that? A hometown hookup?”
“A distraction. One that, I admit, I’d hoped would go on a little longer than it has.”
I can’t believe what he’s saying to me. “That’s what you think?”
“That’s what I know,” he says firmly. “That’s what this has to be because I can’t give you anything more. I can’t give you what you want.”
