Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book #8)(23)
“Please don’t—”
“I swear”—she holds up a hand—“I said I wasn’t going to do this.” Her accent comes out thick as syrup. The more years she spent at Bentley, the more it deluded itself. But Sammy always knew it was her greatest tool of manipulation with me. With Cassidy, it’s so natural, relaxing to listen to, and with Sammy, my stomach tenses up in knots.
“Then don’t do this.” I soften a bit as I lean forward. “I get it. You said you were sorry. I accepted your apology.”
“But”—she swallows hard—“I’m still paying the price.” She blows a breath through her lips as if working through her pain, trying to control the tears that are already flowing. “Um, I said I’d give it one semester.” She waves around at the café in a tragic show of desperation. “I’m here until May. If this thing doesn’t work out between us, I think it’ll be best if I go. But, Cade—I had to know. I had to know that I gave it everything. I just want what we had back so bad.” Tears spill down her cheeks, melting pale tracks in their wake, and she’s quick to mop them up with a napkin. “I’m still in love with you, Cade. I’m not sure any time or distance will ever change that fact.”
Shit. Sammy has always had a happy disposition, but after we broke up, after I basically told her I didn’t want anything to do with her or Dave ever again, she’s been a walking wall of sorrow.
“I’m sorry your heart is breaking.” Those words give me great pause, because for one, she was the one who spoke them to me not long after the incident. “I don’t want to bring you any pain, Sam. That’s not who I am.” A lump gets caught in my throat the size of one of Dave Barnes’s size twelve sneakers. “But I think at this point we’re better off as friends.” There’s no way I can see me going back there. A part of me wonders if I would have had the fortitude to resist stepping back in time if Cassidy hadn’t shown up. I’d like to think I would’ve.
“Are you seeing someone?” Her eyes spin like pinwheels at the prospect. You can see the panic meter rise clear into her wrinkled-with-worry forehead. “I mean, of course, you are. You’re Cade James, bachelor extraordinaire. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to be with you?” She gives a wild shake of the head as if bewildered by her own behavior. “You know, when I think about us—sometimes I pretend it never happened, and then I fill in the blanks at what our lives would be like now. You and I would be engaged, of course.”
We share a short-lived laugh over the idea as if that sobering fact were funny at all. Most likely she’s right, and a painful part of me knows this. I’m beginning to think Dave and Sammy’s impromptu hookup—at least that’s how they sold it in the beginning—was a blessing in disguise. Her initial story was, one minute they were looking at a textbook and the next she was holding his dick. Of course, I simply saw that last part—or more to the point, I didn’t see that last part because technically he had his junk buried up inside her. As it unfolded, I eventually found out it had been a steady thing over the last few months of our relationship.
“We would have had a big wedding after graduation.” She goes on, her tone markedly subdued as she stares off, dazed. “Naturally, the kids would come right away.” She clears her throat, as her voice grows thick and weak. “I can’t believe I blinked our entire family out of existence because of one stupid mistake.” It’s as if she’s speaking to herself now, to the future, as she stares blankly into the table.
“You ever see him?” I haven’t really said his name out loud in years, don’t want to. Last I heard he’s at Penn State studying law.
“No. After graduation, I saw no one. I’ve been at Yates. It’s a nice school, but the distance between us was eating at me. My sister suggested I try a semester here just to see what happens.”
Not sure I buy that last part, but then, her sister always was an instigator.
“We had some good times at Bentley.” The words come out quiet, unsure if I’m speaking the truth. “I’m glad we had them. But I’m glad we’ve moved past all that stuff. It’s probably a good thing that you’re here.” It’s true. There’s no better way to lay the past to rest than to bury it yourself, and that’s exactly what’s come of me seeing her tonight—the past is six feet under, and I’m ready to move on.
Her eyes enlarge with hope as she sucks in a breath. “Really? You mean that? You’re actually glad I’m here?”
“Yes. I mean that. But”—I reach over and tap my hand to hers—“not in the way you’re thinking. Everything that happened is in the past, and unfortunately, I feel as if we are, too. I don’t want you to go through life wondering what would have happened. I want us both to move past this and get on with our lives.”
“Apart.” She collects herself enough to put up a cold front. “So you’re saying there’s no chance. I’ve wasted my time in coming here,” she huffs while looking at her reflection in the window.
“No, not at all. This is the part where we put it all behind us, and we become something new together—friends—just like we were in the beginning.”
A smile plays on her lips. Sammy is pretty by textbook standards, but now I wonder what I ever saw in her beyond that. She’s always been a girl who sees what she wants and gets it, and now I’m starting to think I was simply an object she chose from the shelf, pointed at, and expected to have as her eternal plaything.