Page 7 of Wasted On You

“You put it on and never took it off,” he replied dryly.

“It’s a pretty ring,” she quipped.

“It should be, considering it cost more than my first paycheck.”

She laughed. “You could have given me something fake. I would never have known the difference.” They came to a stoplight, and she glanced over. “Look, this started out as a game, but we can end it anytime you want to.”

“Your mom would be disappointed. I think she likes me.”

“I disappoint my mother on a daily basis.”

“Why did you tell your friends we were doing the deed on New Year’s Eve?”

The question caught her off guard and she made a face. “I can’t blame it on tequila, so let’s go with temporary insanity.”

“I think we can blame the guy with two names. The same one who tried to rearrange my face Saturday night.”

“I don’t want to talk about Mike Paul.”

“No?” Kip grinned and settled into his seat. “Do you want to hear what I think?”

“No.” Her tone was clipped, but he ignored her. Of course, he did. Did Kip Lafferty ever listen to anyone but himself?

“You’re in love with him. Have been for a long time. Probably since you were a teenager. But there’s a problem. He’s done something or crossed a line.”

She glanced at Kip. Was he psychic?

“And he’s a player.”

“Takes one to know one,” she retorted sharply, pulling into the parking lot of the Sundowner.

“Exactly.” Kip paused, his look suddenly serious. “Thing is, Ivy. Even players catch feelings and maybe?—”

“I don’t care what he says or does or feels,” she interrupted, “not anymore.” Kip Lafferty knew nothing about her and Mike Paul. Nothing about their history. Or how she’d wasted all of her twenties pining for a man who would never change. He would always be searching to one-up whatever was in front of him. Would always think there was something better around the corner. The night they’d shared had been a mistake, and if she hadn’t known it then, she sure as hell did a few weeks later.

When God created the commitment gene, Mike Paul had been screwing someone else’s wife.

“Then why am I here?”

“You were alone for the holidays.”

“True.” Kip reached for the door handle. “But I think there’s more to it.”

“Of course you do.” Irritated, she reached for the door handle.

“You needed a buffer. Something to keep Mike Paul at arm’s length.”

“And you needed an excuse not to see your family. Because that would mean facing your brother and Keely and all those questions about our fake engagement.”

His face darkened. “We’re not discussing me.”

“Good. Because I’m done discussing in general.”

He was silent for a few seconds and then opened the door with a sigh. “Guess we’re at a stalemate.”

They headed into the Sundowner to pick up takeout. It was barely four in the afternoon, but a good number of tables were filled with customers. She spied Zach, Millie Sue’s cousin and business partner, behind the bar. With Kip at her side, she made her way over, aware that every single head swiveled toward them. She kept a slow pace on purpose because she wanted to appear as if she didn’t give a flying crap that she was still the topic of conversation after the fiasco Saturday night. By the time she sat her butt onto a stool, her jaw ached from clenching her teeth.

“You’ve returned to the scene of the crime,” Zach said dryly as he tossed a rag onto the bar.

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