Page 61 of Rescue Me (Forget the Past 1)

“Fuck you, too,” I mutter, deleting the message.

One from my sister asking when was the last time I went to see the dentist. Even all the way up in Nashville she’s still trying to mother me. At least her nagging comes from a place of affection, so I respond that I went a month ago. No cavities.

And the last is fromher.

Paige:If tomorrow doesn’t work, we can do pretty much any other day of the week. My schedule is wide open. Also, Pumpkin misses you.

Attached to the text is a close-up image of Pumpkin’s nose and pleading eyes. This girl knows how to cut into my chest and rip my heart out.

With fingers that almost ache from reluctance, I type a quick response.

Dash:Think you can handle training on your own.

Guilt makes me nauseous as I toss my phone into the passenger’s seat and pull out of the parking lot. I know leaving Paige alone is the right thing to do, but it feels a lot more like I’m abandoning her.

I’m halfway home when my phone lets out a continuous vibration indicating a call rather than a text. Since I’m at a stoplight, I reach for it.

It could be Luna, I tell myself.

If I really thought that, I’d just let it go to voicemail and call my sister back later.

But I know who it is, and the temptation to hear her voice is too much. I don’t have a filing cabinet in my car to hide my phone, and after a long day of work I’m suddenly too tired to deny myself this one last taste of her.

“Hey—”

“Dash, I’m so sorry that I kissed you. I messed everything up didn’t I? I’m a horrible friend. You don’t ever want to see me again. I totally understand. But I just needed you to know how sorry I am for making you uncomfortable.” Paige’s sweet, worried voice rambles at me through the phone.

I’m almost too busy soaking up the sound to register her words, but when I do, they shock me worse than grabbing a car battery with my bare hands.

“Paige, no. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“No, we’re not. I messed up our friendship and now you don’t want to train Pumpkin and me anymore.” Even through my shitty phone speakers, I pick up on the catch in her voice, and it guts me.

Whatever plan I had to keep away from Paige crumbles to dust at the idea of her crying. I can’t handle the image.

“Paige, calm down. You misunderstood.” I scramble for another explanation for my dismissive texts while I navigate the crazy end of workday traffic. “I just thought we could do something other than training tomorrow. Like, more NOLA stuff.” It’s a lame excuse, but I do my best to sell it.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Definitely. Let’s…” I search my mind for something we can do other than roll around in my bed together, which is what my dick is voting for. “Let’s go to the French Quarter. Pretend to be tourists or some shit.”

“You’d want to do that? Wouldn’t it be boring for you?” Despite her hesitant questions I can pick up the excitement in her voice. The breathy way she asks her questions brushes over my skin, teasing me. Tempting me.

“It won’t be boring. You make things fun.” I bring my car to a stop in the dirt strip Cole and I use as a driveway.

“So do you. Make things fun, I mean. You’re fun. But in a weird way.” She gasps. “No! Sorry! You’re not weird. I’m weird. You’re…different.”

I rest my forehead on my steering wheel, holding back laughter.

“Dash?”

“Yeah, Paige?”

“Your phone just cut out, right? You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

“Do you want me to pretend I didn’t?”

“I think that would be best.”

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