Page 47 of Love Wasted

Present

When I walk up to the front door, Cass is sitting on the floor, leaning against the door. She doesn’t even look up when I’m standing directly in front of her.

“He’s a fucking dull loser. You do realize that, right?” I squat at her feet, pushing the loose hairs hanging in her eyes behind her ears. When she finally focuses on me, I can see a lot of hurt and confusion. I reach my hand out to her, and she takes it. “Come on, Porter. Let’s go inside.”

Neither of us lets go of the other’s hand, not even when I unlock the door and we walk inside. Instead, I lead her directly to the sofa. She takes a seat, and I sit on the coffee table in front of her.

“Look at me, Cass.” She lifts her gaze to mine. “I’m going to repeat what I said a moment ago: he’s dull, a nobody. Do you really want to waste any more time on that mediocre douchebag?”

“Fuck you!” Her eyes start to blaze, but it fizzles out quickly. I don’t know where that reaction came from, and I’m having a hard time deciphering if it’s meant for Richard or me. Either way, it reminds me of our relationship growing up. I always did or said something, trying to protect or defend her, and bam, she would bite my head off.

“What happened to you?” I ask her seriously.

Eyes wide, she stares at me incredulously. “What do you mean? Nothing happened to me. Don’t say those things about Richard. He really was fantastic.” She focuses her attention on everything else in the room but me.

Squeezing her hand so I can get her to look at me again, I wait until she does before I say anything. “Don’t get mad, but it means you used to have better taste. Cass, sure you fell in and out of love with every boy, but you always stayed true to yourself. You never settled. Hell, you always put me in my place without apology. He wasn’t for you. You deserve more. The Cassandra I know would never put up with this shit from anyone. Did you really want a relationship with no real commitment? It just doesn’t fit.”

“You don’t understand,” Cass states plainly.

She stands and begins pacing the room.

Cass stops in front of the bay window looking out over the city, and it’s reminiscent of my first night back in town. She stood in front of this same window with her back to me, just as she is now. I’m struck with the same feeling of protectiveness for her…and it’s almost possessive. If I’m honest, it’s something I’ve always felt when it comes to Cass. I don’t move. I remain sitting, watching her and waiting, waiting for her to say something, because it’s Cass and I know she always has something to say.

“It’s been five years, Paxton. Five.” Her voice sounds deflated, almost distant.

Standing, I walk over to her, leaving very little space between us. “I know.” I take her hand in mine and them hanging between us without looking at her. She doesn’t look at me either. “I know it has to be hard to walk away from him, but dammit, Cass, you deserve better than a back-and-forth relationship with a guy who smiles and is polite when he wants to be, but who we both know is manipulating you to be someone you’re not!” My voice begins to rise. Turning to face her, I see her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. “Cass, you—”

“I didn’t.”

“Stop talking. Let me say this. No more excuses.” I speak forcefully, and she flinches. “Cass, you are spirit and fire and boldness. You’re beautiful when you’re annoyed and breathtaking when you’re kind. I know it’s hard to walk away from someone you’ve loved for five years, but dammit, the Cass I know could do it because she is confident enough to stand up and say she’s a better person without this guy.” I’m breathing hard when I finish, as if I didn’t take a single breath in between words.

“You’re right,” she murmurs, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Huh? I am?” I’m not sure those words have ever left that gorgeous mouth of hers in reference to me.

“Well, at least about the person I am, but…I wasn’t talking about Richard,” she clarifies. “I meant you. It has been almost ten years since you left.”

Wait, what? Me? What about me?

“Me? What do I have to do with any of this?” Shock is apparent in my voice. “How did we go from talking about Dick to a conversation about me?”

“Because it’s always about you,” she declares, her cheeks flaming red, the tears still hanging on the edges of her lids.

“It is?” I ask dubiously. Taking a step forward, I stare hard into her eyes, trying to understand.

“I’ve always…”

“You’ve always?” I question.

“It’s the way you’ve acted since you’ve been back, and when we were growing up—antagonizing me, pushing me until I’m crazy with …with…until I’m acting irrationally and trying to beat you at your game.” Cass’s voice is shaking now.

“You said it’s been almost ten years like you meant something more,” I interject.

“I didn’t!” She suddenly throws her hands in the air in frustration and begins pacing again. “I just meant you’ve always done this to me and…and it’s basically been ten years since I saw you last. We’re ten years older and yet you’re still doing it. You’re still barging into my life like you have a right, messing with my mind, pulling me in with near kisses and unexplainable attraction.”

I don’t know why or how our conversation made this turn. Is she right? Have I always done what she is saying? Dammit, she is right. I’ve always pushed things with her because it always felt like she was pulling me with a string I couldn’t even see, pulling me to her, teasing me with something I didn’t want but in some strange way longed for.

Without thinking, I walk up behind her, wrap my arms around her, and hold her against me.

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