Page 10 of Wasted On You

“Obviously, I didn’t handle things well, but in my defense, I’d been drunk since Thursday.”

“Not an excuse.”

“No. You’re right about that.” He had to get this right. Lay the foundation for his plan. “It’s hard for me to see you with someone else, and I acted like an asshole.”

Her eyes widened a bit, and her brow furrowed. “It’s hard foryouto seemewith someone else?” She made a sound, something close to disgust, and shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

A spark of anger lit up inside him, but Mike Paul managed to keep it under control.Keep your shit together, man.

“Why do you find that hard to believe?”

She pushed her mug aside, mouth tight. “What do you want from me? To accept your apology? Because if that’s what it will take to make you disappear, then I accept.” She made a shooing motion like he was a fly or something.

His jaw clamped down tight, and he had to take a moment because he was close to losing it.

“Ivy,” he said slowly.

“Don’t say my name like that. Like we’re more than what we are.”

“I’m trying to figure out what we are, and it’s been real hard to do that with you ignoring me for months. I hate that we don’t talk anymore. Hate that I have no idea what’s going on in your life.” He leaned forward and felt like a complete shit when she winced. “I really hate that you got engaged to some guy and brought him home, and I had no idea until you showed up at Cal’s last Thursday for dinner.”

She glanced away, and for a few moments, he thought that maybe he’d penetrated the wall she’d built. But when she looked at him again, her eyes glittered, and he knew she was angry. She slipped off her stool and was in the process of tossing some cash onto the bar when he grabbed her arm.

“Ivy. Please. I want to fix what went wrong.”

She stared down at his hand on her arm, then raised her eyebrows in that imperious way she had. Carefully, he let his hand fall away.

“There’s nothing to fix.”

“Isn’t there? I’ve known you since kindergarten. You, me, Cal and Millie Sue, we did everything together. We played sports, rode horses, got into trouble. We were the…”

“Four Musketeers.”

He nodded. “Yes. We were. And last year. That night we had together?—”

“I don’t want to talk about that night.” She thumped him in the chest. “Biggest mistake of my life.” Her words were rushed. Her color was high.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said, moving so close he could count the freckles on her nose. “Because I sure as hell don’t.” He waited for some kind of response, but she said nothing. “I know I was a complete dick Saturday night, and I apologized to your…to him, the baseball player guy.” He tumbled over his words. God he sounded like a complete wuss. But shit, it had to be done.

“You mean Kip Lafferty.”

“Yeah. That guy.

“The famous baseball player that I’m engaged to.”

Mike Paul was not enjoying this. Being humble and eating his own pie was not fun at all.

“It’s the only Kip I know,” he responded lightly.

“Why were you in the hospital?” she asked, throwing him off balance.

“What?”

“You were in the hospital. At least according to May Margaret Christchurch.”

“Did you think I was hurt?”

“No,” she responded a little too quickly, as she toyed with the edge of her jacket. “Never mind. All good. I don’t really care to be honest.”

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