Page 20 of Commit

“Every cowboy’s favorite: barbecue pulled pork.”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

Matt’s eyes go wide. “Shoot. Are you serious?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “No, not all yoga instructors are vegetarians.” I gesture for him to come in. “I’m starving.” I turn and walk into the classroom, calling after him. “I hope you have enough food for my friend Jana. She’s been listening to our entire conversation.”

CHAPTER 11

MATT

“Is this the Key West man?”

“Hey, Dad.” I smile as I shift the phone closer to my ear. I’m in my hotel bathroom. I’ve got the bedroom door shut, the bathroom door shut, and the bathroom fan going. I’m taking no chances that Remi can hear my phone call. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, I’m sitting here at Mom’s grave, reading the newspaper.” I hear him flip the page over. “There’s a sale on chuck roasts. Six dollars a pound. Buy one, get one free. So that’s chuck roasts at three dollars a pound. That’s a great price. If you lived in Tampa, you could buy some.”

I smile, loving the way my dad has consistently told me the deals on meat for the past ten years of my life, even though I moved away and have no reason to buy meat in bulk. “Yeah, that seems like a great price.”

“I think I’ll buy some and serve French dip sandwiches at our next game night.”

“That’s a good idea.” I don’t mind that my phone calls with my dad consist of menu planning. Now that my mom has passed away, who else is he going to meal plan with?

“Is Key West hotter than snot?” he asks.

“On average, Houston is hotter than Key West.”

“Oh, right. So, are you having fun?”

“It’s…” I scratch the back of my head. “Well, Remi’s here.”

He pauses for a minute. “And so it’s not fun?”

My family knows that Remi left right after the funeral. They were there, and even if they weren’t, I tell them everything.

I pace back and forth in the small bathroom. “I mean, it’s good to see her, but then seeing her drives me nuts.” Especially when she tells me she isn’t attracted to me. “She’s stubborn and infuriating. I feel like we’re fighting but flirting, and it’s completely her fault.”

She broke up with me.

She said she wasn’t attracted to me.

I’m just reacting to her.

“So, you’re Jimmy Buffet?”

My brows furrow until I realize my dad is comparing my love life to the song “Margaritaville.” I picture myself so tanned my skin is akin to leather, sitting alone on the beach, drinking a margarita, and pining after Remi for the rest of my life. The vision also includes me trying to convince myself that Remi’s the one to blame for my loneliness.

I shake the disturbing image away.

“I’m not Jimmy Buffet.”

“There are worse things than being Jimmy Buffet. You could be Johnny Cash. He was in and out of jail.”

“Dad, move on from Jimmy Buffet.” I swipe a hand through my hair. “I’m just saying, I don’t know if this wedding weekend is fun when you’re at odds with…” I pause, not knowing how to finish my sentence.

“When you’re at odds with the woman you love?”

I don’t need to finish my sentence. My dad already knows the truth.

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