Page 34 of Pining for You

Brad phoned me minutes after I’d arrived home. I stammered out some bullcrap about having a headache and how I needed to lie down and try to sleep it off.

It was a lame excuse, but I hadn’t figured out what to say on the short walk back. I hadn’t figured out how to handle the whole situation. I felt like a teenager again, trying to decide if I’d hooked up with the bad boy who…Brad wasn’t a bad boy, but maybe bad with money?

Brad offered to come over, but I told him to stay and enjoy the party.

He’d phoned Saturday, asking about my headache. He was so concerned that I wanted to yell at him.

He phoned Sunday too, but by then, I was so in my head with convoluted reasons about his needing a loan, about his finances, I couldn’t think straight and knew I’d blow things from something probably small to huge, and now I didn’t feel like I could get out of this muddle well enough to take it with him. Instead, I’d told him I was spending the day with my folks—not a lie, but they would have happily invited Brad to join us.

I didn’t see him at work on Monday, which disappointed me. Yeah, I’m fickle, aren’t I?

Late Tuesday afternoon, as Blair pulled the B Team truck into the work yard, Blair side-eyed me when I muttered, “Shoot.”

“What’s wrong?”

I could hardly tell him Brad had beaten us back, and was probably already in the work shed sharpening and cleaning his tools. Since his bench was beside ours, I couldn’t avoid him. Nor should I. Except, I still hadn’t figured out what to say. Or what outcome I wanted. Instead, I lied. “I forgot I promised to visit a friend after work, but with this heat, I’m in desperate need of a shower first.” I even lifted my arm and sniffed myself with a grimace. Ick, I did need a shower.

He snorted. “Don’t we all?”

I held back as we unloaded the tools from the truck, trailing Blair, hoping I could hide behind him, that Brad might not see me. Except I was about three inches taller than Blair so…yeah, that was a stupid thought.

Because, yes, Brad’s attention was completely on me from the moment I walked through the door until I placed the tools on the work table. When he’d done that last week, I found my body heating under his gaze, but today? I wanted to wilt, to hunch my shoulders. And to demand he tell me why he needed a six-figure loan. Which, I kept telling myself, was none of my business.

“Hey, can we talk?”

I jumped at Brad’s soft question, and realized he was directly beside me with Blair nowhere to be seen. When had Blair left? Where had he gone? How hadn’t I noticed him leaving?

Okay, Chloe, time for the big-girl panties. I squared my shoulders and faced Brad.

Taking my change of stance as agreement, he asked, “I know I haven’t been around much the last couple of weeks. I have a reason, and I’d like to explain it to you. If you’ll give me a chance. I couldn’t talk about it before.”

I opened my mouth to reply, then stopped. The carefully considered, erudite speech I’d prepared at one in the morning turned to gibberish in my mouth. I reminded myself his finances were none of my business, reminded myself that we hadn’t been dating that long and he didn’t owe me any explanations, reminded myself that while I enjoyed dating him, curling up on the couch with him in the evenings, and holy moly did I ever love making love to him, that we weren’t a committed couple. Reminded myself that after my marriage to Tony had collapsed, I’d promised myself not to get involved with a man who wasn’t completely honest about his finances.

He’d done nothing wrong, yet here he was apologizing to me.

“I owe you an apology about Friday night.”

Confusion filled his expression. “You said you had a headache. Why would you need to apologize for that?”

Why I had I run from him? Except I hadn’t been running from him, had I? I’d been running from my own fears. “It’s complicated.”

He blew out a breath in frustration. “Life is complicated. But I’m trying to uncomplicate things between us.”

A movement beyond him caught my attention. We were gathering an audience. With a tilt of my head toward the growing group of co-workers, I murmured, “Not here. Down at Perry Beach at…8:00?”

That would give me time to have a shower, makes some notes in case my mouth and brain failed me again. I didn’t want to hurt Brad. He was a good guy, even if he was bad with his finances. A lot of women wouldn’t even bat an eye, but after dealing with the debt Tony left me with? It freaked me out.

“Perry Beach?” His eyes narrowed. “It sounds like you’re wanting neutral ground.”

Which I guess I was.

“It’s too freaking hot out. The beaches on that side of the lake are usually ten degrees cooler than they are on this side.” My apartment had a window air conditioner, but only in the bedroom, and there was no way I would be able to have this conversation there. “But if you want to call it neutral ground, sure.”

He moved closer, a half step, whispering, “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about us. Tell me you’ll give me a chance. Hear me out.”

To my shame, I took a full step back. “I’ll be at Perry Beach at 8:00. It’s up to you if you want to meet me there or not.”

My eyes filling with tears, not in anger at him for keeping secrets, for needing money, but at myself. I walked out of the work shed, climbed into my truck, and drove out of the yard.

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