Page 37 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
“You missed the party,” he tried, sounding uncomfortable.
“The party your girlfriend was at?”
He froze. “What?”
“Don’t try that with me.”
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” he contradicted, the pitch of his voice rising.
“Can you guess?”
It was his turn to not respond.
“What kind of asshole,” she growled, standing up, “invites his girlfriend to a party, then invites the girl he just slept with? What kind of asshole cheats and pretends like nothing happened?”
“Hang on, hang on.” Cayden took a step forward and pointed a finger at her. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“So you have nothing romantic going on with the one who got out of that car?” She thrust her hand at the blue car still sitting there.
“Hannah?” His mouth dropped open. “No, I don’t have anything going on with Hannah.”
Lillian frowned. “She sure looks like she has something going on with you.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“Hey, babe,” she mocked. “Hey, good-lookin’.”
“Dammit, Lil.” She saw he was really frustrated now. It soothed that emotional burn she had been nursing since before sundown. “Were you watching?”
“Was I not supposed to be?”
“It’s not that.”
“It’s hard not to hear what’s going on over here when there’s loud noises and our houses are so close together.” She crossed her arms.
“I don’t know how to explain this without you getting pissed off at me even more.” Shaking his head, he put his foot on the step again. “I don’t think you’re going to listen to anything I have to say.”
“All I want to say,” she interjected, “is that you shouldn’t sleep with a girl when you have something going with another.”
Cayden lost it. His voice rose to a yell. “That’s impossible when the girl I slept with is the girl I have something going on with.”
All the blood left her head and she put her hand on the chair for balance. “What?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be ridiculous. You would literally have to be emotionally void to not see what’s going on here.” He pointed at both of them. His face had changed from irritation to something softer—something vulnerable.
“I...” She couldn’t think of a single word to say and sat back down, looking at Cayden’s feet.
“I don’t have anything going on with Hannah,” he clarified, his voice firm but with a tender edge. “That’s the last thing I want you to think.”
“How do you explain the side of the house?” The emotions had returned, and she met his gaze. “You didn’t look like you minded.”
“How the hell did you keep seeing all this?” he asked incredulously.
“When I hear yelling outside my house, I usually look to make sure no one is hurt. Especially when there’s alcohol involved.” Good one, she mentally high-fived herself.
“If you were looking, didn’t you notice she was drunk?”
“Yes.” There was no defense for that one. “But how did you even get over there when the car is on the other side of the house?”
