Saugatuck Summer (Saugatuck, #1)(52)

I nodded, my throat too tight for speech. I didn’t deserve her. I didn’t. I wished I could tell her everything so she could hate me and quit offering me love I hadn’t earned.

She ran a hand over her pastel-streaked hair. “Before I leave, I will suggest that you set a limit on how long you’re going to punish yourself. Why not have fun for a night or two? Is it some sort of penance? Why? Do you really think that man’s wife and/or family will feel better about things if you never get laid again?”

I gave a miserable, watery chuckle. “No, I guess not. I’ll think about it, okay? Just . . . don’t push me at anything today. Please?”

“Okay.” She sighed, shaking her head at me and opening the door. “Come on. People are waiting for their drinks.”

I nodded, then stopped in my tracks at the laundry room door.

“I love you, Mo.”

She smiled back at me. “I know. I love you, too. Even when you’re a f*ck-up.”

Resisting the urge to burst into tears again, I followed her back out to the kitchen.





I get so tired of unraveling

Nothing ever working

So I face what I was hiding all along

—Casey Stratton, “The Hardest Part”

I was just about to grab the pitcher of sangria off the island counter when the French doors leading out to the deck opened and Jace stepped in, squinting as his eyes.

“Hi, Jace!” Mo beamed at him, obviously still delighted he was here, despite my ambivalence. “Need anything?”

“Directions to the washroom?” he replied with that omnipresent grin. He really didn’t know how to not have a good time, did he?

Mo pointed. “Around the corner, there.” She snagged the pitcher of sangria almost out from under my hand. “Can you get the fruit plate out of the fridge, Topher? It’s kinda packed in there; you might need to dig pretty deep for the fruit dip.”

“Sure.” I was still too grateful for her love and friendship, however unworthy I was of it, to smell the obvious setup until after she was gone.

I smiled tremulously at Jace and then hid in the refrigerator, hauling out the platter of berries and sliced fruit before diving back in to find the fruit dip. What kind of fruit dip, anyway? Did she mean the store-bought caramel kind for apples, or a bowl of homemade whipped-cream-based fluff, or something else entirely?

I knew the hand on the small of my back instantly, like it was the most familiar thing in the world. It might have been a high-voltage wire for the way electricity shot through me.

“Dollars to doughnuts there’s no fruit dip,” he murmured behind me.

Would Mo do that to me not five minutes after I’d asked her not to push me at anything?

Fucking A. Of course she would. I was the fruit dip, apparently.

I backed out of the fridge, hanging my head with a sigh. “For Mo, that was extremely subtle.”

“She’s got a gift.” Jace leaned against the counter beside the fridge with his arms across his chest, looking me over. “How are you, Topher?”

“Good. Good. Fine. How have you been?” I retreated a few paces, mirroring his posture against the island chopping block opposite him.

“I’ve been good. Really good, in fact, though I’m wondering if you would rather I weren’t here.”

“What?” I blinked rapidly. “Why would I— Why would you think that?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Because this is the first time you’ve met my eyes since I arrived, and if I were a vampire, you’d be thrusting garlic and a cross at me right now.”

He didn’t look offended or insulted. As always, he looked amused. So much so that I couldn’t help but hang my head and chuckle a little.

“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting to ever see you again. I assumed you were some tourist passing through, not a regular visitor.”

He shrugged. “I pretty much thought the same about you. That doesn’t explain why you’re so flinchy, though. Are you involved with someone now? Do you have a policy of not doing repeat engagements? One-night stands aren’t welcomed back?”

“What? No!” Jesus, did he really think I was so crass?

“If you do, that’s cool. People have their boundaries. I won’t step on them; I just need to know what they are.”

“It’s nothing like that,” I quickly assured him, unfolding my arms to rest my hands on the counter on either side of my hips. “I’m not like that.”

He let his posture relax, too. “Good. Because I’m glad to see you again. I’d been wondering how you were.”

“I’m . . . um . . .” I hummed thoughtfully, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. “To be honest, and for reasons I really don’t want to get into, I’m not doing quite as well as I was last time you were here.”

“I can tell.” I opened one eye to peer across at him. “If I met you on the beach today, I wouldn’t try to pick you up.”

“Ouch.” That stung my vanity a bit. I might be having issues, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still pretty.

He gave an unapologetic shrug. “That isn’t the same as saying I wouldn’t try to convince you to have a cup of coffee with me and get to know you, see what’s eating you.”