Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(104)

His shoulders sag as if relieved of some huge weight. “Please just give me another chance. I know you want to.”

“What makes you so sure?” Because suddenly, I’m not so sure, either.

“Oh, come on.” A slow, seductive smile curls his lips as he reaches forward and entwines his long fingers through mine. He knows that smile has the power to melt all of my defenses. I’ve told him as much a thousand times. “Lurking on Facebook, hunting me down at paintball. The way you walked into that bar in your little red dress, flipping your hair around like you didn’t have a care in the world, getting up on the stage. You knew that’d get my attention. And you did. Now I’m giving you what you want.” He pulls my hand up to his mouth, until the heat from his mouth is dampening my skin. Just like he always used to do. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You know we were amazing together.”

It’s strange. I’ve pictured this moment before—though Jared was much more contrite in my version—and it always came with a euphoric high. Now, though, I’m not feeling euphoria. Not unless anxiety and guilt is a part of the emotional package.

“Yeah, we were great together. And then you crushed me by cheating on me. And then marrying the girl!” I shake my head as I pull my hand away from him. “And now you’re ready to cheat on her—your wife—with me?”

Resting his elbows on the table, he begins rubbing his face with both hands. “I can’t help who I love and I never stopped loving you, Reese. I just thought I loved Caroline more. But I don’t.” His hands drop. “Not the same way that I love you. Please, give me another chance. Just . . . come back to my place. Let’s talk more.”

“We’re talking now.”

His eyes drop to my mouth with a secretive smile.

I know what he’s looking for and I highly doubt talking is a part of it.

I smirk. Funny. If this were Ben, he’d have come right out and said he wanted to take me home to get into my pants. Then again, this would never be Ben because he’d never play with my heart like this.

“I don’t think so.”

His lips twist pensively.

“What?”

He shakes his head and frowns. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re playing hard-to-get or if you’re actually turning me down.”

I could really screw with him. I could go to his condo, climb into his bed with him, and take back what was taken from me so long ago. Even if just for one night. If he truly loves me—I’m beginning to wonder if Jared knows how to love—it would hurt him. It would crush Caroline.

But it would kill me.

I stand. “Goodbye, Jared. Don’t ever call me again.” I’m making a smart decision. For once.

Throwing a twenty down on the table for my order, I turn to walk away.

To see a set of red, watery eyes that match the red hair framing her face. I don’t know how long she’s been watching, how much she picked up from that. Enough, I would say. Enough that I should feel better about this. This should be victory.

But all I can feel right now is relief that I’m not hanging on to a memory that I’ll never get back. And pity, for her, for being in love with a guy like that.

“He’s all yours, Caroline. But honestly, I think even you’re too good for him.” I walk past her without a glance back.



A knock sounds at my door a second before Mason’s half-tamed dark mop pokes in. “Hey, Jack and I were thinking we should all go out to dinner tonight . . .” His voice drifts as he watches me stuff the last of my clothes into a brimming knapsack.

“I’m heading to the grove now.” After what just happened with Jared, I can’t wait another night. I haven’t even messaged Ben to tell him that I’m coming. I’m afraid he’ll tell me not to and, well, I just need to be there.

I need to see Ben.

“Oh. Okay.” He looks down at the bulging white folder held together with a thick rubber band that sits gripped within his fingers.

“What’s that?”

He sighs and glances furtively up at me. “Just a case I’m working on.”

“Yeah? What’s it about?” I ask, pulling the zipper on my backpack. Mason can usually carry on a semi-normal conversation if it’s about a case.

“Hey, do you think you can take a look at the suit I laid out for tomorrow? You know me and colors.”

“Uh . . . okay?” Mason has never asked me to do that. “Why don’t you ask Lina about that?” My hands freeze. “Oh, shit. Did you break up?” In the next breath, I accuse him, “You didn’t hold her hair while she puked, did you?” I haven’t talked to Lina since last weekend. If they did break up and I’m just finding out about it now, then I’m a really shitty friend.

“No! I mean, yes, I did! And no, we didn’t break up.” He’s completely flustered. “I just . . . I’m asking you because you’re here. But if you want your family showing up to the funeral looking like a clown, then fine, I’ll just—”

“Okay! Jeez.” I stroll past him and into his room, smiling to myself over the term “family.” Even with the divorce, he and Jack are my family.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter as I see the burgundy dress shirt with tiny taupe ducks all over it. “What is this, Duck Dynasty Goes Formal?” I yank the shirt and toss it into the trash can. Fishing through his closet, I find a plain navy shirt. “That works.” I turn to find him leaning against the door frame, watching me. “Did you actually pay money for that shirt?”