Page 49 of Wait With Me
“Why?” I ask, dumping extra sugar into my coffee because with the way Dean is acting, I have a feeling I’m going to need my energy.
“Because for one, this guy rejected you once already.”
“Thanks for the reminder!” I exclaim, stirring in the sugar with the spoon on the table.
“I’m sorry, but he did. And you were fucking pissy about it for days. A pain in the ass to be around.”
“Well, please let me apologize for having feelings in front of my friends.”
“It wasn’t your feelings I was mad at. It was that idiot, Miles.”
“You don’t know he’s an idiot.”
“Oh, please.” He sneers and drapes his arms over the back of the booth. Everything about him looks so pompous and arrogant that I want to punch him. “He’s a mechanic at a Tire Depot. How bright can he be?”
I slam my spoon down on the table. “Are you frickin’ kidding me with this shit?”
“No,” he snaps, his jaw rigid beneath his beard.
“This coming from a high school dropout?”
“I earned my GED, and I’m self-educated.”
“In what? Being a fucking asshat?” I snap and move to stand.
“Sit down, Kate.” He reaches out to grab me.
“I will not!” I rear back and yank my wrist out of his hand. “This is total bullshit, Dean.” I fume, feeling so hurt and upset by his snap judgment of Miles. A man he doesn’t even know. It reminds me of the look I get from people who don’t support what I do for a living or who think I’m only one thing. Miles is so much more than what Dean is giving him credit for, and if he can’t see that, I don’t want to be around him.
I pin Dean with a serious glower and say, “I surround myself with people who are inclusive and nonjudgmental because I have a weird job. I write frickin’ erotic novels for a living, and I don’t want judgy friends in my corner because that makes me a hypocrite to the characters I write about. And Miles is so encouraging about what I do. More encouraging than you’ve ever been, and that counts for a lot in my book! And he’s not dumb at all. He’s actually really fucking insightful, and you might know that if you’d quit looking down your nose at people.”
Dean’s face turns beet red, panic setting in over his features as I move to walk away. “Don’t leave, Kate.” He stands up and pulls me back to him.
“No,” I exclaim, pulling out of his arms. “I’m sorry, but if you’re going to start acting like this, then I don’t see how we can continue our friendship.”
“Kate!” he repeats my name so urgently I pause to look at him. His eyes are wide and more terrified than I’ve ever seen them, a sort of panic taking over his entire body when he finally stutters out, “I like you.”
I shrug. “Well, I thought I liked you too until you turned into a douche-nozzle.”
“No, I mean, I really like you.” He closes his eyes and slides his hands into the pockets of his trousers, resignation all over his posture.
But for some reason, his words still don’t fully sink in. My angry expression morphs into disbelief. “Like you really like me like a best friend or you…?”
He pins me with a severe look and replies, “I like you as more than a best friend, and it’s not something I can ignore anymore.”
“Dean,” I say with a sigh, my stomach dropping like I’m on a damn roller coaster. “How long?”
“A couple of years?” he grinds through clenched teeth, drops back down into the booth, and runs a hand through his beard nervously. “But I was with Lynsey, and you were with that douchebag, Dryston.”
I slide back into the booth, and my jaw dropped when I reply, “You never said a word.”
“I was waiting for the right time.” He shrugs.
“But Dryston and I have been broken up for months now.”
“But he still lives with you!” he replies, leaning across the table with wide, urgent eyes. “And you were together for two years, Kate. You needed time to get over that shit. I wasn’t going to be the rebound guy. I wanted more than that. Then this fucking mechanic comes out of nowhere, and suddenly, you’re casual Kate. Wait, no…casualMercedes.”
I lean back, my teeth grinding at him throwing that in my face. “You know why I told him my name was Mercedes.”
