Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(55)

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she said once I was done. “But people make mistakes, you know. Say things that they don’t mean.” She sighed. “Sometimes it’s better to get all that out on the table, instead of keeping it bottled up inside.”

“What are you saying?” I wanted to know. “Are you saying it’s good that we fought? That Emerson accused me of selling my soul?”

“Not at all,” my mother said quickly. “Those things he said to you were cruel. And you didn’t deserve them. But, I can tell you from experience, that a fight—even as bad as the one that you two had—doesn’t necessarily mean that you should give up.”

“What do you mean from experience?” We had never really spoken about my father.

“Well, honey.” My mom took a deep breath. “Your father and I never fought. Ever. When he left, it took me completely by surprise. Because he never mentioned that he was having problems, or doubts, or fears, or whatever it was that led him to leave.”

“He left because he was a coward,” I told her, my voice like steel.

“Yes, he was,” my mother agreed. “But sometimes I wonder that if we had talked—actually talked earlier—maybe we would never have gotten to that point.”

“You’re saying I should go talk to Emerson,” I concluded.

“I would never tell you what to do,” she countered. “But you need to follow your heart, wherever that leads.”

By the time we finished talking, I found myself standing in front of Rascals. I had walked all the way home from the office—completely on autopilot. I hung up, and stared at the OPEN sign hanging in the window.

Just talk to him, a voice inside my head suggested. What’s the worst that could happen?

You could catch him with another girl, a second voice offered. Or he could say cruel things to me. Break my heart all over again.

But I wanted to talk to him.

So I went inside.

Liam was behind the bar. Chase was nowhere in sight.

“Alex,” Liam said, his voice cautious. “How can I help you?”

I could have turned around and left. I didn’t.

“I was looking for Emerson,” I told him. “Is he here?”

The look that Liam gave me was sympathetic. “Emerson is out of town. Camping with Chase and Sawyer.”

Had I been avoiding the bar this week for nothing? How long had he been gone for? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. I had a feeling that Liam might not tell me anyways.

So instead, I thanked him and headed upstairs to my apartment. I was turning the corner when I ran into someone.

“Hayley!” I was surprised to see her—especially surprised that she was in my building.

“Alex!” She threw her arms around me, pinning my own arms to my side. “I was hoping I’d catch you.”

“Are you OK?” I pulled back, searching her face for the reason she’d come.

“I’m fine,” she told me quickly, grabbing my arm. “But Emerson’s not. He’s clearly torn up over this breakup.”

My heart twisted—both in sympathy and relief. If I was in pain, it was only fair that he was too. But as mad as I was at him, I still hated the idea that he was hurting.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I told her, moving away. “But that’s not really my problem anymore.” It felt cruel and callous to turn Hayley away, but she basically ignored me.

“Have coffee with me,” she begged, giving me the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “Pretty please.”

I got the feeling that she wasn’t someone who would give up when it came to matters like this, so I sighed and invited her in for a cup of coffee.

“Just one cup,” I warned, and she nodded eagerly.

Her eyes were huge when she followed me into my apartment.

“Oh my God,” she said, looking around. “It’s so tiny.”

“Hayley,” I warned her, trying to get her to focus.

“Right.” She blinked and followed me towards the kitchen area of my tiny apartment. “I really appreciate you letting me in.”

I made us some coffee and the two of us crowded onto my small couch together, our knees bumping against each other. Hayley took a sip of her coffee, but I didn’t really feel like eating or drinking anything. I just wanted to hear what she had to say.

“Emerson is a mess,” she finally blurted out. “He refuses to tell me what happened at the night of the gala, only that you guys got into a huge fight and broke up.”

“That’s all he told you?” I demanded, knowing that while Emerson might not have spilled all of the details to Hayley, he definitely would have told her more than that.

Her cheeks got red, so I knew I was right.

“He might have mentioned that my father was involved as well.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said dryly. “Your father is an interesting guy.”

Hayley looked down at her coffee. She suddenly seemed very young. Very na?ve.

“My family is . . . interesting,” she agreed. “We all love each other, but, well, we all have very bad ways of showing it. My father especially.”

“No kidding,” I snorted. “I’m pretty sure that telling your son that he’s a failure unless he turns his business into a franchise is not the best way to express your love.”