Page 57 of The Caress

Our appetizers arrive, and I’m too hungry to keep bickering with my sister. I believe her when she says she won’t be talked out of going to Los Angeles, but that doesn’t mean I’m out of options.

I still have Deacon’s number. I think it’s time to finally give him a call.

"You really are an arrogant asshole," Deacon says over the speaker on my phone as I ride home from the restaurant. "Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"Only everyone who’s ever met me," I snap, only half-joking. "And I might be an asshole, but I’m not fucking around, Deacon. I don’t want you to date my sister. I hate the thought of having to end our friendship when you break her heart."

"You’re all worked up over nothing," he assures me, but I can tell by his tone that he’s probably lying. "Stella is a great girl, but I don’t think it would work out between us."

"Exactly. It wouldn’t. It's best not to even try."

"You are the expert on these things," he says under his breath.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m the expert in what things?"

Deacon and I have always enjoyed teasing each other. It’s usually just lighthearted, brotherly ribbing, but he’s dangerously close to crossing the line this time.

"All I’m saying is that you had a good thing going with Ella. She’s a good girl. Smart, pretty, and funny. I don’t know what the hell she sees in you, but I heard you were dumb enough to break things off with her. Not that I should be surprised. You’ve always had a knack for self-sabotage when things are going well in your life."

"Fuck you," I say, scrubbing a hand down my face as I stare incredulously at my phone screen. This conversation has gone from bad to worse. I’m pretty sure we aren’t joking anymore. "I don’t know where you’re getting your information from, but it sounds pretty fucking biased to me."

"Is it really that biased?" he asks because he knows me too damn well. "And you know exactly where I’m getting my information from, so don’t play dumb. I already told you I’m not dating your sister, but I don’t think it’s any secret that I’ve spoken to her and hung out with her more over the past few months than I have with you over the past ten years."

Damn.

Why did I call him again? Oh, right. Because I wanted to warn him that if he fucks Saffron, I'll kill him.

"Look," I exhale, trying to regain my composure even though I’m genuinely pissed. "I don’t want to fight with you. I’ve said everything I need to say, so I’ll stop lecturing you about your relationships if you agree to stop lecturing me about mine."

"I’m not trying to lecture you, buddy." The edge is gone from his tone, even though I have a feeling he’s about to contradict his statement by giving me another damn lecture. "I’m just saying that from everything Saffron’s told me, you fucked things up with Ella."

"She played a part in fucking things up, too," I point out, though it almost feels petty to say the words out loud.

"Maybe she did. But you’re the one who can make it right. I think you should. The two of you are really good together. She's the only girl I've seen who can tolerate your nonsense for more than a week or two."

He isn’t wrong about that, unfortunately. But he is wrong about the rest. It’s too late to fix things with Ella. It’s too late to make things right.

"I have to go," I say, suddenly feeling tired and stressed after dealing with my sister and my supposed friend all afternoon. "I’ll talk to you later, Deacon. Take care."

I hang up before either of us can say anything else. I’m afraid I’ll lose control of my emotions if I open my mouth again. I’m damn sure not going to let that happen.

I slump back in the cab seat and stuff my phone into my pocket. Is Deacon right? Am I being stupid? Am I throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to me? The chance to be really, genuinely happy?

Maybe.

Probably.

But what am I supposed to do? It really is too late to fix things. That's assuming Iwantto fix things.

As far as I’m concerned, that ship has sailed.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

ELLA

It’s still dark outside, and I feel like I’ve only been asleep for an hour or two at the most when I hear Saffron calling my name.

"How is it already morning?" I mumble to myself, raising my head to look at the clock next to my bed. My flight back to New York is leaving early, but not this early.

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