Page 23 of Forgettable in Every Way

“I want a ride!” Jack exclaimed.

It was harder to say no to Jack. The little guy already owned my heart. “Well, if it still runs, your daddy can borrow it and take you for a ride.”

“Yay!” My response easily appeased Jack.

Simon, not so much. His already-taut jawline tightened more while he stared at me in disbelief.

I shrugged and turned, not knowing what else to say. Besides, I had a lot to do. I needed to organize the garage so I could start moving boxes into it. Then I needed to catalog the sporting equipment and make sure it was all in good working order for the Airbnb guests. When people rented a lake house in a mountain town, I’d read it was best to have everything from watercrafts to bikes. Thankfully, my parents had an array of canoes, kayaks, and mountain bikes. I wasn’t sure how often they got used anymore, but I was happy to test them out. As much as Aspen Lake didn’t feel like home, I missed all the outdoor recreation it offered.

“Hey, mate, why don’t you pretend to drive the Vespa while I talk to the princess,” Simon said.

Oh, no. There is no need to talk to the princess ... I mean me.

Simon disregarded my silent thoughts, and before I knew it, he’d taken my hand and pulled me over to where my dad’s sleek black Mercedes-Maybach sat, unused for months now, just collecting dust. Which made the fact that my old Vespa was shining like new even odder.

I was so taken aback by Simon’s boldness, I dropped the clipboard and it clattered on the epoxied floor. It didn’t help matters that my fingers longed to intertwine with his and stay there forever. I did my best to stave off the feelings of belonging erupting in my chest. My heart had proven to be a big fat liar.

When we stopped, Simon gripped my hand. He must have known I was seconds from pulling away, if only I could convince my fingers they did not belong with his.

Jack provided cute background noise. “Vroom, vroom. Beep, beep,” he squealed.

I was glad someone was enjoying themselves.

Simon’s pale-green eyes bored right into mine, holding me in place. “Jules, you are making me feel as if I’ve lost the plot.”

He wasn’t the only one confused.

“I know I was a bastard,” he whispered so Jack wouldn’t hear. “I was the worst sort of mate, but I would like to make amends. Can we not be friends? I could use a good mate about now, and I get the feeling you could too.”

I stared at him blankly, the words mate and friends ringing in my head. Not that I thought he wanted anything romantic, but when you’ve been in love with someone for thirteen years, being friends sounded like torture. I also had to wonder about his motives after all this time.

“If you think being friends with me will help you get Penelope back, you’re dead wrong.” I ripped my hand out of his.

His eyes bulged while his jaw simultaneously dropped. “Bloody hell, is that what you think?”

“What other reason would you have after all this time?”

“Jules,” he said, as if I’d wounded him. “This has nothing to do with Penelope,” he gritted out her name. “As the mother of my child, I will not speak ill of her, but believe me when I tell you, there is no chance of a reconciliation between us. I do not wish for that. Nor would I ever use you in such a way, or use you in any manner, for that matter.”

Good for him for taking the high road and not bad-mouthing Penelope. No doubt she probably deserved it, based on the way his temples throbbed when he said her name. It made me curious as to why they had divorced, and perhaps happy he didn’t want her back, as foolish as it was. However, I had felt used by him, in a way. After being tossed so easily to the side and then forgotten, how could I think otherwise? “Then why?” I had to ask.

He sighed and hung his head. “What a prat you must think I am. And you would be right. I’m sorry you have to ask.” His head snapped up, and he drew me in with his apologetic gaze. “Jules, you are the loveliest mate I have ever had.” He held his hands up. “I realize my actions over the last several years do not reflect how much your friendship means to me, but I would like to change that.”

I wanted to change some things too. For starters, I didn’t want to hear the word friend or mate come out of his mouth again. I got it. He didn’t want me to get any ideas about there ever being more between us. Which meant he’d 100 percent read the captions in the photo album. My face blushed furiously, knowing he knew how I really felt about him. I wanted to crawl under my dad’s car and curl into the fetal position.

“Um ... thanks for the offer, but I’m only here for a few weeks. My life is in LA.” If you could call it that. I spent my days working in my condo and my nights working out or reading. On the weekends, I took long walks on the beach by myself or rode my bike along the Long Beach shoreline, a favorite ride for me. If I really got crazy, I would go to San Diego for the weekend. Not to say I didn’t take a couple of fabulous vacations every year. All by myself, of course. There was nothing like enjoying romantic places like Bali and Paris solo. I was depressing myself. But it was better than embarrassing myself. I couldn’t be around him knowing he knew of my feelings for him.

Simon’s lip curled. “Offer? Love, I’m not trying to broker a deal with you. And it’s not like we can’t keep in touch once you go back home. We both have mobile phones and autos.”

Was Simon saying he would drive to LA to see me? Weird. Obviously, I wasn’t holding my breath for it. Besides, I wanted to be anywhere he wasn’t at the moment. I was withering in shame inside.

“I’m really busy with work and bet you are too. I mean, you have watches to sell and bodice rippers to record.”

He spat out a laugh. “Is that what you think I do?”

I wrung my hands together. “Well . . . maybe . . . yeah.”

Simon stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his cinnamon breath and see a couple of gray specks in his layer of fine stubble that looked as if Da Vinci himself had painted it on. What a masterpiece. But just like fine art, I was only meant to look at it, not touch.

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