Page 45 of The Trouble with Players

“Because you didn’t come home.”

“I’ve been home since Sam dropped me off—five minutes after I left the banquet.”

“I looked everywhere for you,” he said.

“Well, I guess you didn’t look good enough since I’ve been here all night.”

“Yeah. I realized that somewhere around three.”

“So, it sounds like we got that sorted out,” I said, moving toward the house.

“She means nothing to me,” he said.

I didn’t stop. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“God dammit, Peyton!” he yelled.

That stopped me. I turned slowly to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“I know what you think of all of us, and I completely understand why. But I just need you to know it meant nothing. And, nothing happened.”

“And I’ll say it again. It doesn’t matter to me.” With that, I turned and walked inside the house.

“Good morning,” my father said from a stool at the island.

Ugh. From one asshole to another. “Not really,” I muttered as I moved to the refrigerator.

“I saw you dancing with Crew last night. You two getting along?”

Did he seriously not overhear what just happened beyond the door?

“Nope,” I said, grabbing a bottle of water and slamming the refrigerator closed. I walked out of the kitchen and made my way toward the stairs. “He’s just like the rest of you,” I called.

* * *

I walked to the shops, visiting the gift shop where I’d bought my necklace. I reached for the small shells around my neck, brushing my fingers over them for good luck. An hour later I was the newest employee at Hidden Gems and Gifts. My boss couldn’t promise me a lot of hours, but she said she could use me for shelf stocking. Today, I was folding Cape Cod sweatshirts.

“If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it,” Gina said as soon as she walked inside the shop.

I glanced around, making sure no customers heard her, but they were all busy trying on Cape Cod hats and jewelry at the counter.

“What went down with you and Crew?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I refolded a sweatshirt one of the customers had just tried on and discarded in a ball.

“Well, your cryptic text about getting a job tells me that you’re majorly trying to avoid him.”

I huffed, embarrassed to have to admit that I lowered my guard and it bit me in the ass. “Let’s just say, I plan on keeping myself busy for the rest of the summer.”

“You couldn’t have just gone to the beach? You had to go and get a job?” she asked.

I shrugged. “It’s just all getting to be too much.”

“Peyton, you know I’m here for you.”

“I know.” I lowered my voice. “Did you want to buy something?”

She laughed. “I can take a hint.”

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