Page 140 of My Rules

“That’s right.”

“I think I would know if I had no boundaries.”

“You were too busy falling all over your date in a ridiculously over-the-top public display of affection to notice anything.”

“Are you jealous?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No. I’m not jealous of you and her. What I am is fed up.”

“I don’t like him. He’s not the man for you,” he snaps angrily.

“I don’t like him either,” I spit. “And I’m beginning to realize that perhaps there isn’t a man for me at all, because I thought I could count on you, but obviously now you’re proving that I can’t even do that.”

His eyes hold mine, but he remains silent.

“Well?” I put my hands on my hips. “What’s your excuse for being such an arrogant asshole last night?”

“I don’t need an excuse,” he replies calmly.

“Poor Kayla. She was so embarrassed by your behavior last night.”

“Ha.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t care what Kayla thinks.”

“Well, you should. I thought she was your dream girl that you wanted to settle down with.”

From the very back of my psyche, a little voice starts screaming in the background.

Stop talking.

“There you go again, throwing Kayla in my face. I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you jealous of her?”

“I’m jealous that you’re nice to her. I’m jealous that you respect her enough to accept her opinion. And more than that, I’m jealous that she hasn’t seen your horrible side yet. Because I have, and let me tell you, Blake, it’s not nice. Quite frankly, I don’t think we should be friends anymore.”

His jaw ticks as his eyes hold mine. I know that I’ve just hit a nerve.

“I won’t be seeing Kayla again.”

It’s me who steps back this time, shocked. “Why not?”

“Because she’s not the girl I want.” He gets into his car and slams the door.

Who is?

“Move,” he growls, and I step back out of the way. He reverses the car out at high speed and takes off down the road in first gear. The car revs loudly as he disappears into the distance.

The street falls silent again.

Damn it.

Why are we fighting so much lately?

I blow out a defeated breath and turn to go back to my house. It’s then that I see Carol is standing there in her dressing gown and holding her garden hose.

As usual, she’s pretending to water her stupid garden. She doesn’t fool me. She comes out here every morning to find out what’s going on in the street.

“Morning, Carol.” I wave and fake a smile as I stomp back toward my house.

“Morning.” She smiles. “Don’t worry about him, dear,” she calls. “Lovers’ quarrels make all men crazy.”

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