Page 102 of The Good Girl (Nashville Neighborhood)

Abruptly, he turned and stalked to the driver’s side, unlocked the doors, and climbed in without so much as glancing my way. When I got in and shut my door, he waited with his hands on the steering wheel and his gaze fixed forward, staring out the windshield vacantly.

My heart sunk into my stomach.

He was withdrawing from me, preparing to deliver the bad news. Sadness weighed me down, so it took a tremendous amount of effort to buckle my seat belt. Once it was done, he started the car, put it in gear, and pulled out of the parking space.

I attempted to study the dash in front of me like there was an interesting pattern in its texture, because I needed something to distract from the tense silence surrounding us.

It was so heavy, so uncomfortable, it was nearly intolerable.

Finally, he spoke, and his tone was quiet and heartbreaking. “You said you love me.”

I turned away to look out the window, not wanting him to see the tears stinging in my eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

It was foolish to hope he’d somehow agree, but instead he let out a long breath. The sound of it further crushed my heart. “No, that is a big deal, Sydney.”

“You’re right.” I closed my eyes. “It is, because you don’t feel the same way.”

It took him a lifetime to respond. “I didn’t say that.”

“No, but then again, you didn’t say anything at all.”

Without looking at him, I could sense the frustration rolling off his shoulders. “Because it caught me off guard, okay? I had a plan going in there, but once you said that, I couldn’t think straight.”

“Right. I get it.” Bitterness filled my mouth as I turned and gave him a hard look, not caring anymore if he could see how I was fighting back tears. “This is all my fault.”

Annoyance edged into his expression. “Again, I didn’t say that, and why does it sound like you’re mad at me?”

My emotions had me reeling out of control, and I couldn’t stop myself from blurting it out. “Because I love you, and . . . you didn’t even have an answer when he gave you that ultimatum.”

Preston shifted awkwardly in his seat, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. Why the fuck did I keep telling him I loved him when I knew it made him uncomfortable?

“I didn’t have an answer,” he struggled with how to phrase it, “because it’s fucking complicated. Troy’s release party was supposed to be this huge milestone for Distinguished Events. We took on a major project, fucking rocked it, and proved we’re ready for more. But instead of celebrating—I spent most of last night worrying that our company is going to collapse. We don’t have staff. It’s just me and Colin, and the business can’t survive without him.”

He peeled his gaze off the road to show me how serious he was.

“My whole life is wrapped up in this, so you’ve got to cut me some slack if I’m not instantly ready to risk it all.”

He wasn’t ready to risk it on me, and while it stung painfully, logically wasn’t that the smart decision? I was just twenty and we’d only been together a few short months. We hadn’t talked about the future or where we saw this going.

It meant he’d have to sacrifice his friendship and his dream . . . all for a gamble on a girl he wasn’t even in love with.

If he even wanted to do that, how could I let him? How could I be that selfish?

I loved him, which meant I wanted what was best for him, and unfortunately that was a future that didn’t include me.

He’d given me a lot of firsts. Sex. Love. And now heartbreak.

“What are we even doing, then?” I whispered. “Maybe our whole relationship has been no big deal.”

He flinched. “What?”

“It’s not worth destroying everything you want.”

That pissed him off. “What are you talking about? I want you, Sydney.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “God, I wish you’d never sent me that text.”

My breath caught. “What?”

He frowned and swung the car into my driveway. “I’m just saying, if you hadn’t, we could have told him ourselves, and it would have been better. It would have gone the way I wanted it to.”

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