Page 20 of Fool Me Once

“Club soda with a lime, please,” I answer.

She moves her sights to Smith. “What about you, handsome?”

“Sprite, please,” he tells her.

I’m a little surprised he isn’t drinking tonight. Because, well, it seems like everyone in here is halfway on their way to being tipsy.

Within a minute, the bartender sets the drinks in front of us. When we each reach for our glass at the same time, the backs of our hands brushtogether, and an electric sensation rushes up my arm, making my brain prickle.

Wrapping my palm around the cool glass, I quickly pull it toward me and away from his hand, cursing my flesh for still responding to him after all these years.

“So, I figured I’d come to the apartment to help you move your stuff after practice tomorrow. Maybe around noon or so.”

“I don’t need help moving my things,” I mumble, squeezing the lime above my drink and stirring it around.

“Come on. Don’t be like that,” he teases. “Let me help you, Gem. That way, you don’t have to carry and lift all your shit alone.”

“I have one bag, Smith,” I deadpan. “I think I can handle my one bag.”

The second I say the words, I’m embarrassed. How can someone keep their entire life in one bag? Why, by fleeing their home, of course.I didn’t exactly have time to pack or schedule a U-Haul. Or do anything really besides run to Target and buy enough clothes to get me by with the small amount of cash I managed to hide away.

After a moment of silence, I feel him shift slightly beside me.

“Oh, all right. Do you, uh, need a ride? At the very least, I can pick you up and bring you to my place.”

“Your sister is dropping me off on her way out of town.” The words hurt. I’m not ready to say goodbye to Saylor yet.

“All right, well, I guess I’ll just see you when you get there.” He pauses, like he doesn’t know what he should say next. “Is there anything you need me to get?”

“No,” I say quickly before sighing. Glancing at him for a split second, I shrug. “Thanks though.”

He looks like he’s seen a ghost as he stares at me in disbelief because I just said something that wasn’t bitchy.

“You’re welcome. I’d do anything to help you, Gem.” He swallows. “There’s a rocky beach not far from my house. It’s safe to walk to because it’s all in a gated community.” He shifts nervously. “They say there’s a lot of sea glass there. Maybe you could check it out.”

They’re just words, but it melts a teeny-tiny spot in the ice around my heart. Before he betrayed me and left me like I was nothing, he had alwaysbeen my best friend. And in that month we spent time together as a couple, he was everything to me. He was sexy, smooth, sweet, kind, and swoony.

And then he was gone.

“I don’t really do that anymore,” I utter, trying not to feel some type of way that he still remembers my love for sea glass when I was younger.

That obsession stopped when I got my entire collection thrown at me a year or so ago.

“That’s a shame,” he drawls. “You used to love it.”

I don’t look at him. I can’t—because I’m not willing to let Smith Sawyer thaw away the frosty shield I’ve built up to protect myself. He has the ability to ruin me, just like he did before.

Judging from the way he’s acted since I’ve been in Portland, Smith must know what’s going on with me because he’d never be this easygoing when I’d been nothing but a brat. Maybe Saylor told him—who knows?

Since the second I agreed to this living situation, I’ve considered calling it off and going back to my parents’ house. I owe them an explanation anyway. But my dad just finished cancer treatments last week, and he isn’t feeling that well, I’m sure. The last thing he wants to deal with—or should have to deal with—is me.

Before he got sick, I would have felt safe at home. I’ve always known that my dad, a state trooper, could keep me safe. But now, he’s weaker than he was. He needs to get his strength back before he has me piling my issues on him.

Smith sits next to me, not saying a thing, and I don’t offer any words either. I just sip my club soda, turning every now and then to watch my best friend have the time of her life, and smile through the uncomfortable energy lingering between Smith and me.

If I feel this uneasy now, tomorrow should be super fun.

“It’s okay, bud. It’s only your crazy aunt and our friend Gemma,” I tell Storm, my German shepherd, as his ears perk up when a car rolls into the driveway. “Let’s go greet ’em. After all, she’s going to be living here with us, so you’d better be on your best behavior,” I warn him before pulling the front door open.

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