Page 18 of Fake Dating My Valentine

So I stayed.

I knocked for what felt like an eternity, each unanswered knock chipping away at my hope. I prayed—something I hadn’t done in years—that she’d open the door and let me see her face. I just needed one look at those expressive blue eyes, and I’d find the words to make this right.

“Torey, open the door so we can talk.”

A minute passed, and then loud rock music blared from inside, shaking the walls. My shoulders sagged in defeat. We wouldn’t be talking tonight.

But tomorrow? Tomorrow was a different story altogether.

Chapter 11

Torey

Nothing felt better than the first stretch of the morning—a hill I was willing to die on. My legs shot straight out and my arms raised over my head until my body was in a straight line diagonally across my bed and a low, satisfied growl echoed in my empty bedroom. A small smile touched my lips; I just knew it would be a good day.

I spent most of yesterday cleaning my house, listening to rock music loud enough to drown out Ryan's knocking and attempts to talk—when there was nothing to talk about. I had two casseroles in the fridge, which should feed me for the next three or four days, possibly more if I continued to sulk about the mistake.

“Shake it off, sister!” That’s what I told myself as I sat up and noted it was earlier than I usually woke up. I didn’t have to be at the bakery for another few hours, so I wrapped my hair in a topknot, threw on a pair of thermal leggings and an old sweatshirt, and caught up on the marketing work I’d scheduled for this evening. Now I would be ahead of schedule, which gave me plenty of time to do…something else.

I loved the marketing side gig just as much as I loved working with my best friend at the bakery, making pastries and breads that the people in town couldn’t seem to get enough of. Both jobs satisfied me on a deep level and combined they allowed me to live on my own and pay all my bills while I tucked away a few bucks for a rainy day. Or maybe a vacation.

One day.

Some day.

Where I would go, I had no clue. I hadn’t spent much time outside of Holiday Grove beyond a few semesters of college and culinary school before I carved out a path for myself.

A loud pounding on the front door scared the hell out of me. I placed my hand over my racing heart just as the pounding started again. “What the hell is the rush?” I flicked on the coffee pot and marched angrily to the front door. I yanked it open without taking a breath and grunted at the sight before me.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Ryan wore a bright and gorgeous grin as he greeted me.

And that grin, for some reason, made me even angrier. “What the hell are you doing here at this hour?”

He lifted a brow. “You want me to come back later?”

“No! I want you to go away and to stop, whatever this is,” I motioned to him with a bag of wonderful smells in one hand.

“I understand.” He nodded slowly and took a step forward and then another until he’d crossed the threshold and entered my house. Without an invitation. “But we need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” I insisted and left the door open before I rushed around him to put a stop to this madness. “We have nothing to talk about Ryan. We just have to make it through this week, which we can, and everything will be fine.”

“I made a mistake.” The words rushed past his beautiful lips, cold and sharp just like a knife.

“Yeah Ryan, I know. You already said that. It was a mistake and you don’t have to worry because I have no plans on making that mistake again. Are we done now?” I pushed at his chest, but the jerk refused to move.

He turned around and kicked my front door shut before he turned back to me and gripped my upper arm. “Just shut up and let me talk, Torey.” He growled and guided me to the kitchen where he set me in a chair and dropped the bag in front of me. “I brought you breakfast.”

My brows knitted suspiciously. “Why? We’re not really together, so you don’t need to butter me up to soften the blow of a real breakup.”

His nostrils flared as if he was annoyed with me. Ryan inhaled deeply, then exhaled before leaning over the table to get right in my face. “Shut up and eat, woman.”

I swallowed hard and squeezed my knees together to stop the ache that started in my core. “Fine, talk.” I waved a dismissive hand in his general direction to focus on something else—hell, anything else—other than how turned on I was for some reason.

“Saying that we were a mistake was the fucking mistake, Torey. Worse than that, it was a lie. It was a cowardly lie at that. I knew that saying it was wrong and that it would hurt you and I said it anyway. That was the fucking mistake.”

Oh. I watched his big body as it paced the kitchen like a wild cat, big and lean and so graceful it was a sight to behold. “It’s okay,” I whispered.

“No, it’s not. Don’t let me off the hook, Torey. It was a shitty thing to do, and I wanted to take it back immediately, but that look in your eyes.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and growled. “Fuck, I’m not sure if I’ll ever get that look out of my head.”

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