Love on the Lake (Lakeside #2)(55)
Her head is down, so she doesn’t notice when I step in front of her, blocking her way to the driver’s side door, and she crashes right into me.
“Oh!” She stumbles back a step, and I grab her around the waist to prevent her from falling into the pothole she jumped over.
She shields her eyes with one hand and tips her head back, her lips thin. “I thought you’d gone home.”
“Louis told me I had to go so he could close up, so I waited out here for you.”
“Right. Well, maybe it would be better to talk another time, when it’s not pouring.” She brushes past me, and her headlights flash as she unlocks the driver’s side door. I rush to open it for her, and she mumbles a reluctant thank-you. I close the door, blocking out the rain, and bust my ass around the hood, yanking on the passenger-side door. Which is still locked.
I bend down and knock, giving her what Dillion calls my puppy dog eyes. It’s the look I often use when I’m trying to get her to give up the last apple fritter. It rarely works where food is concerned for Dillion.
Her shoulders sag, but she hits the unlock button. I open the door and drop into the passenger seat. It’s really coming down out there now, rain battering the windshield, blurring everything outside.
She smells faintly of perfume, stale beer, fries, shampoo, and a summer storm. I stare at her profile, trying to figure out what I’m going to say without telling her everything. “I fucked up,” I blurt.
Her throat bobs and her head drops before she tips her chin up and stares out the windshield. “Fucked up how?”
“I did something I shouldn’t have this week.” I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have.
“I thought you weren’t sleeping with the women on the other side of the lake anymore.”
“What?” I’m confused because this conversation has taken a swift left turn down a hill and into a ditch.
“I guess we never discussed exclusivity, so it’s probably my fault for assuming that we were.” Teagan grips the steering wheel, and her chin does that trembling thing, like it did that first day when I was less than pleasant with her.
“Whoa, whoa. Hold on a second. I know I have a reputation, but I haven’t slept with any of the women from the other side of the lake in a long time, and I don’t plan to either. Why would you jump to that kind of conclusion?”
“You were gone this weekend, and then Monday and Tuesday you worked late. You weren’t out with the guys on Wednesday, and you blew me off all week. And the first thing out of your mouth was that you’d fucked up, followed by doing something you shouldn’t have. What other conclusion is there? Other than you’re having second thoughts about this whole thing.” She motions between us.
“Wow. Okay. I can see where I went wrong there. I mean I fucked up by blowing you off this week. When I said I was working on projects on the other side of the lake, I meant exactly that; it wasn’t a euphemism for anything else.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds before she finally asks, “Why did you blow me off, then? Did I do something wrong?”
I run my hands down my legs. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I had some family stuff I had to deal with this weekend, and I wasn’t in a great frame of mind when I got home. I didn’t want to put that on you, because my family shit isn’t a problem you should have to deal with.”
“You could have told me that. I would have understood if you needed space.”
I rub my bottom lip. “Yeah. I see that now. I wasn’t kidding when I told you I don’t have a lot of experience when it comes to actual relationships. When I’m in a mood, I generally try to avoid people so I don’t subject them to it.”
“We all have good days and bad ones. You can show me all your sides, Aaron. It’s not going to scare me away.”
I want to believe that’s true, but there are parts of my life and my past that are the kind of ugly even I can’t face. And if I can’t deal with it, how can I expect someone else to?
CHAPTER 16
LITTLE SIGNS
Teagan
After spending hours putting together the proposal, I get town approval to go ahead with the farmers’ market. We decide end of summer would be the best time to host it, and if that goes well, I’d like to petition to have one closer to the holidays. But first I need to get this one off the ground. I don’t account for quite how much work it is, even with a handful of volunteers. It’s a lot different from planning events for a financial firm with lots of overhead and a team of people who are getting paid to help run things. Regardless, I’m determined to make this happen and for it to be a success.
As spring rolls into summer, Aaron and I fall into a comfortable routine. We alternate between nights at my place and nights at his. We go to the summer beach parties together; he teaches me new things, like how to drive a boat and water-ski. We go on hikes and take day trips on the weekends. We don’t go for dinner in Lake Geneva again, but we frequent the local restaurants, and on the rare occasions when we go out for a nice dinner, it’s often tacked onto one of our day trips, far outside Pearl Lake, where he’s not likely to run into women he’s previously slept with.
And once a month he’s gone for a weekend. Every time he returns, he’s quiet and distant for a few days. He hasn’t said who he goes to see, and I don’t want to force it out of him, but I don’t understand why he won’t tell me. I’ve tried to bring it up casually with his mom when we’re working at Harry’s together; she seems to think he’s going to see friends from college. But that time we had the blowout, he said it had to do with family. It makes me think he’s lying to one of us.