The Hookup Handbook(50)

Shuffling toward the bathroom to wash my face, I immediately regret looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes are swollen and red from crying, and my skin is dull and pale. I look and feel like I’m the one who got kicked into the pavement last night, not Case. And in some ways, I wish I were. At least then I’d have a better reason for feeling this pathetic.

But I know what I have to do.

Locating my phone on the other side of the room where I tossed it last night, I fire off yet another text to Case.

Meet me at the café by your place at 9? We need to talk.

He replies within a minute, confirming our plans.

Finally, a response from him. Why couldn’t he have done that last night?

I rub my eyes, hoping the puffiness goes down before I have to be seen in public. There’s no use putting on makeup when I’m liable to cry it right off. A quick shower and a few deep breaths later, I’m out the door early enough to avoid any potential run-ins with Ryder.

When I arrive at the coffee shop, Case is already waiting for me, seated at a table on the patio with a coffee in hand. He’s got on a slouchy gray T-shirt and black jeans paired with a pair of aviator sunglasses that I’ve never seen him wear before. He looks strikingly handsome, and a pain settles inside my chest.

As I walk closer, I see that he already ordered coffee for me as well. One cream and two sugar packets are placed beside the cup on the table. Just the way I like it. I try to ignore the twinge in my heart at the gesture.

“Hey,” I say timidly, pulling out the chair opposite him and taking a seat. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“How do you know it’s for you?” he teases.

Good. I’m glad Ryder didn’t knock the sense of humor out of him.

“Lucky guess.” I cup the mug in my hands and take a sip, letting the caffeine do its work on soothing this headache. “How are you?”

Case scoffs. “About as good as you’d imagine,” he says, adjusting his sunglasses.

I catch sight of a splotch of dark bluish-purple on his cheekbone, barely hidden behind the lens. It’s both better and worse than I’d been imagining all night. “Is that . . . a black eye?” I lean closer to try to get a better look, but Case turns his head the other way.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he mutters.

I wish I could get a good read on him, but his sunglasses are reflective, completely hiding those hypnotic blue eyes. Instead, I’m forced to stare into my own worry reflected back at me.

“What about you? Are you all right?” His deep voice washes over me, laced with concern.

I shrug, chewing nervously on my lower lip. “I’m okay, I guess. I’m glad you were able to meet up. It’s good to see that you’re alive, at least.”

Case suppresses a snicker. It’s softer than his normal laugh. Sadder, almost. “Yes, Sienna. I’m very alive.” He adjusts his sunglasses once more as a woman walking into the café eyeballs him worriedly. “She’s a client,” he explains under his breath, taking a sip of his coffee.

Did she notice the black eye? Even worse, does she think I have something to do with it?

“Case, we need to talk,” I blurt, and despite his sunglasses, I can see his brow crinkle.

“About the client? She’s no one, Sienna. I promise.”

A knot pulls tight in the back of my throat. “No. About last night.”

“Weren’t we just talking about last night?”

He’s not going to make this easy on me, is he?

“I mean actually talk about it, Case. Actually talk about us.”

I suck in a long, deep breath before launching into it. Here goes nothing. Or everything.

“I think we should cut things off. You’ll have book signings coming up. Interviews with magazines and bloggers. You can’t be rolling in looking like you just got knocked down in the ring. This book . . .” I trail off, second-guessing my words, then finish my thought in a hushed tone. “It’s what you should be focused on right now.”

Case flinches at my remark, but he doesn’t try to argue.

“And since you’re done with the book, and well, because of everything else, I guess that means you won’t need my help anymore, and I can begin working at the dance studio full time.”

His shoulders stiffen, and he takes half a second to process before responding. “Fine.”

I recoil. “Just . . . fine?” My heart feels like it’s been split in two—but fine?

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

The familiar build of oncoming tears stings my eyes as Case casually takes another sip of his coffee. He sets the paper cup down and drags his thumb across his lower lip.

God, I want to lean across the table and kiss those lips. One last sweet, tender, breathtaking kiss. But I know my heart couldn’t handle it. And with a client watching from inside the café, neither could his career.

“See you around, Sienna.”

Gripping his coffee cup in one hand, Case doesn’t so much as glance back as he disappears down the sidewalk and toward his car, parked on the street.

I imagine him back at his office, working at that desk where he fucked me just weeks ago. He’ll be coordinating clients and arranging for meetings with his editor to help build hype for the book. Life will go back to normal for him without me posing a threat to his livelihood. Just as quickly as he came into my life, he’ll disappear out of it.