Page 96 of Set on You

He bows his head, kicking at a dried leaf near his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I was hurting you. I thought I was helping.”

“You’re not, though. I think our ideas of success and stability are very different.”

“Then we’ll agree to disagree. I promise to stop with thecomments. I haven’t brought it up since you laid down the law at the wedding, have I?”

“No. And I appreciate it.”

He stands, patting my shoulder. “Anyway, remember what I said. You’re not alone. And I am so proud of you and the woman you’ve become.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I linger on the deck as he steps back inside, replaying his words.

Had Dad succumbed to those ugly comments and let them define him, he and Mom never would have happened. They never would have had their so-called botched, yet perfect wedding in the rain right here in Grandma Flo’s backyard. They never would have had their eventful honeymoon in a bedbug-ridden hotel in the Adirondacks. They never would have had Tara and me. Or thirty full years of a beautiful life together.

The life I could have with Scott. The life I desperately want.

chapter thirty-four

DOESN’T LOOK LIKEthere’s any sign of smoke. Thought this was a fire call?” Scott’s familiar, husky voice echoes through the empty gym.

I hadn’t expected Scott and the fire crew to arrive at Excalibur Fitness so fast. As soon as I spotted the red truck pulling up outside, I bolted into the utility closet in the yoga room.

I crouch in a cloak of darkness, peeking through the tiny crack in the door, like the true creeper I am. My heart pounds as I will myself to remain stone-still. The mountain of yoga mats beside me threatens to topple over and bury me alive seemingly every time I breathe. It doesn’t help that the broom has fallen over, whacking me on the head on three separate occasions in the span of a minute. Who knew grand gestures could be so dangerous?

When I started planning this, I knew it needed to be elaborate. Scott deserves it, after everything I’ve put him through. I need toprove to him that I’m sorry. That I’ll never let fear and insecurity dictate our relationship again. That I love him too. When I stumbled across old, unused footage from my workout tutorials, I knew exactly what to do.

“Maybe it’s just a faulty alarm,” a deep voice I know to be Trevor’s responds.

Thanks to Trevor, this entire crazy plan has been made possible. And surprisingly, he was beyond extra about it, meticulously analyzing all possibilities and backup plans from start to finish to ensure a flawless execution. For a womanizer who recoils at the very idea of a monogamous relationship, Trevor is a closet romantic. It’s unfortunate all his talent is wasted.

“What is this?” Scott asks, voice growing closer.

When heavy footsteps enter the yoga room, my throat dries and constricts. Scott is in full gear. I think my soul has left my body. Though a crack in the door doesn’t grant me a full view, he’s far too sexy for human eyes. Not even the massive, thick jacket and pants can disguise his towering, broad physique. He takes his helmet off, setting it under his arm, revealing that long, pushed-back hair flow I drooled over upon first sight of him.

His expression is one of focus and confusion as he studies the wall. The projection takes up the majority of the far wall withthepicture. The picture that ruined everything. The picture of us on the beach. The picture that made national news.

He shoots an accusatory glare at Trevor. “Is this some sort of messed-up joke?”

Trevor shakes his head, giving Kevin a conspiratorial glance. “Just give it a minute.”

Scott glares at them, gesturing to the photo. “This is a setup,isn’t it? Are you guys trying to stage an intervention or some shit? I know I’ve been depressed, but this is—”

“Stop being an asshole and watch,” Trevor orders, quickly losing patience. He reaches for the remote on the little projector table and clicksPlaybefore sauntering into the dark hallway with Kevin and the rest of the crew.

The video begins to roll. The beach photo disappears, replaced with a video of me looking into the camera.

“Hey, Scott.” My voice fills the room. “I’m sorry to drag you here under such mysterious and dramatic circumstances. I know we didn’t leave things on a good note. I am truly beyond sorry for hurting you. I know this whole thing made you doubt my feelings for you and my trust in you. I have a couple things I need to say to you. But first, take a look.”

The video cuts to a clip of me doing cable rows. It’s the perfect shot, until a large figure walks in front of the camera, blocking the majority of the screen, save for half my face.

“Here. So you don’t forget to wipe down the seat.” Scott’s eyes widen when he recognizes his own voice.

When he exits the frame, I’m left sitting on the cable bench, just blinking. What I didn’t know at the time, which he later admitted, was how much he wanted to continue talking to me. “I had no clue how to continue the conversation without sounding like a massive creep and embarrassing myself beyond repair. So I walked away,” he’d told me one night as we reminisced about how we first met.

The video cuts to me on the mat doing an ab workout. Scott watches in disbelief when his own figure enters the shot, kneelingin front of me with that cocky grin. “What did you do with my phone?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, sitting up. We’re locked in a face-to-face glare for a few moments before the banter continues on. There’s a massive smile on my face, which shocked me upon first seeing the footage, because I was sure I was giving him a fierce stare-down at the time.

The video keeps going, even during the times it goes black when he put my phone in his pocket. I’m bugging him about Tinder and asking him to justify why he needs his phone. Then we’re bartering to give our phones back. The video cuts on a still of his face, close up, when he refused to relinquish it, choosing instead to creep on my Instagram to find out my name.

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