Page 47 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

I take a step toward him and then my steps falter.

I wish the morning after an amazing night of amazing sex had started any way other than this.

I wish we talked, so that I would have some idea what’s going on his head right now. Whatever it is, I know it’s not good.

But I can’t tell if it’s I-had-sex-with-my-best-friend’s-sister-and-now-I-don’t-know-how-to-handle-it not good or if it’s I-just-found-a-guy-hitting-on-the-woman-I-just-had-sex-with not good.

It could be either. Or something else entirely.

And even though I almost always know what to say to defuse the situation, I have no idea what to say right now. So I take another step forward, keeping my hands clenched in front of me so that I won’t be tempted to reach up and trace my name on his sweat-dabbled chest like I’m writing notes on a steamed up mirror.

And I say the only thing I can say. The only thing that makes sense to me under the circumstances.

“What are you thinking?”

His mouth tightens into a grim line for a second, then he swallows, which seems as good a sign as anything that he doesn’t know what to say either.

“Just that you better not fucking tell me what a good guy he is. Or make excuses because he was clearly just about to kiss you now.“

“You do know that whatever was going on with him, it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

Nick swallows again and his nod is tight, but definite. “I know.”

“So… Where does that leave us? You’re not mad at me over this, right?”

“No.” His hands are working the edges of that towel like he’s trying to squeeze out the last moisture on earth. “I know that would be irrational. I know I have no right to be mad at you about that.”

“I feel like there’s a but at the end of that sentence that you don’t want to say out loud.”

“Of course there’s a but there. But I’m talking to a lawyer, right? So if I admit that I’m mad about what I saw, then I’m the asshole.”

“You’re not talking to a lawyer. You’re talking to me. Your friend.”

He laughs, but it’s the angriest, most bitter laugh I’ve ever heard from him. From anyone, maybe. “Is that all we are? Friends.”

“I don’t know what we are. Do you? I know that we’re at least friends. At least I thought we were. I don’t know what else we are. We met in person for the first time seventy-two hours ago. And all of this is happening so fast. And I have no idea what any of it means. And now you’re mad at me for something I had absolutely no control over. I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“I don’t know what I want you to say, either. Maybe I just want you to stop fucking defending him. Stop talking about what a nice guy he is. Because he’s not a nice guy. He’s a douche canoe who cheated on you. And if you’d been interested at all, he would’ve cheated on his fiancée just now. So I want you to stop fucking defending him.”

“That’s what this is about? You’re mad that I won’t say shitty things about Tripp?”

“Maybe. Yeah. I guess I am. Because the guy is clearly an asshole, and I don’t know why you’re still working for that stupid fucking company, and I don’t know why you won’t admit he’s an asshole.”

“I’m still working for that company because it’s my job. Because I invested years in that company before I started dating Tripp, and I don’t think that I should have to start my career over again just because he and I broke up. Yeah, if I had other options, maybe I would take them right now. But my career shouldn’t have to take a hit just because he couldn’t keep his zipper up.”

“No, it shouldn’t. And that’s one of the reasons why I get mad when you continue to paint him as a nice guy.”

“Maybe I keep saying he’s a nice guy, because if I say he’s an asshole, then that makes me look stupid. Yes, I could insist that he’s a dick and a manipulator and a user. If he’s all of those things, then what am I? We dated for over a year. I’m not saying that I loved him. But I thought we might have a future together. I thought he was what I wanted.

“Now that I know who he really is, I know he’s not what I want. I don’t want what Delaney has. Now that I have some distance from the relationship, I have zero interest in going back, but I’m also not going to beat myself up for being with him.”

I pause then, sucking in one deep breath after another.

Nick mutters a curse under his breath, turning to stalk several feet down the beach, before turning back around. Now there’s this distance between us and he still wearing those stupid aviator glasses. So I still can’t read his expression.

“Say something.”

“Jesus, Cassie.” He digs his foot into the sand, like a racehorse pawing at the ground, champing at the bit. “I never meant for you to feel like that. I don’t think less of you for being with him. And yeah, I always thought he was an asshole. But I always thought he was an asshole because he had you and I didn’t.”

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