Twisted(44)

Drew. That’s gonna be a tough one. Might as well start now—practice makes perfect.

My hand rests against my stomach, cradling it. “Yeah . . . your father. Your dad is like . . . a shooting star. When he’s around, every other light in the sky just . . . fades out. Because he’s that vibrant—you can’t take your eyes off him. At least I never could.”

I bite my lip. And watch as a hawk soars overhead.

Then I go on. “We loved each other. No matter what’s happened or what will happen from here on out, it’s important to me that you know we were in love. Your father made me feel like I was everything that mattered to him. The only thing. And I’ll always be grateful to him for that. I hope you get to know him one day. Because he’s actually a really . . . great guy.” I laugh softly. “When he’s not too busy being as ass.”

When I finish speaking the air settles, and all is quiet for several minutes. It’s so different from the parks in the city, with their honking cars, screaming children, and jogging footsteps. It’s serene.

So when a car door suddenly closes nearby, it startles me. My head whips toward the sound.

And standing there is the last person I ever thought I would see out here, in Greenville, at this moment.

It’s Drew.





Chapter 15


He looks awful. Stunningly, breathtakingly awful.

His eyes are bloodshot, his face is pale, there’s a few days of stubble on his chin—and despite all that, he’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

Looking anywhere else just isn’t possible.

Drew is staring too. His gaze is unwavering—drinking me in—burning me up.

We stand like that for a minute. And then he walks toward me. His steps are purposeful and focused, like he’s marching into a business meeting with his entire career on the line.

He stops just a few feet away.

But it feels like much farther.

And everything I’d planned on saying to him in New York flies right out of my head. So instead, I start off easy. “How did you know I was here?”

“I went to the diner first, saw your mom in the kitchen. She said she didn’t know where you were. And she was looking at me like she wanted to chop my dick off and put it on the Specials Menu. So I went out front—ran into Warren. He told me you’d probably be here.”

Of course Billy would know where I was. Just like he knew I would want him to send Drew to me.

“Did he do that to your face?” I’m talking about the fist-sized welt on his left cheek. It looks fresh—just starting to bruise.

He touches it gingerly. “No. Delores was with him.”

No surprise there. Although I don’t think her heart was really in it. If Dee Dee seriously wanted to do Drew damage? She wouldn’t have wasted her time with his face—it would have been straight to the crotch.

“What do you want, Drew?”

He lets out a short bark of laughter, but there’s no humor behind it. “There’s a loaded question.” Then he looks off into the horizon. “I didn’t think you’d leave New York.”

I lift a brow, questioning, “After your little show? What did you think I would do?”

“I thought you’d curse me out, maybe smack me. I thought you’d choose me . . . even if it was just to keep someone else from having me.”

Jealousy. Drew’s weapon of choice. He used it when he thought I wanted to win Billy back, remember?

“Well, you were wrong.”

He nods grimly. “So it seems.” His eyes meet mine for a long moment. And his brow wrinkles just a little. “Were you . . . happy . . . with me, Kate? Because I was really happy. And I thought you were too.”

I can’t help the small smile that comes to my lips. Because I remember. “Yes, I was happy.”

“Then tell me why? You owe me that much.”

My words come out slow, hushed sadness weighing down every syllable. “I didn’t plan it, Drew. You have to know that I didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did. And people change. The things we want . . . change. And right now, you and I want two very different things.”

He takes a step toward me. “Maybe not.”

I’m trying hard not to read into the fact that he’s here. I don’t want to hope. Because hope really does float, like a piece of wood on a wave. But if it turns out to be unfounded?

It smashes against the rocks—breaking you into a thousand pieces.

“What does that mean?”

His words are careful. Planned. “I’m here to renegotiate the terms of our relationship.”

“Renegotiate?”

“I’ve given it a lot of thought. You went right from Warren to me, jumped in with both feet. You’ve never just . . . screwed around. Played the field. So . . . if you want to hook up with other people”—his jaw tightens, like the words are trying to stay in, and he has to force them out—“I’m okay with that.”

My face pinches with confusion. “You came all this way, to tell me you want us to . . . see other people?”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. You know—as long as I still get to be in the rotation.”

Sex has always been a top priority for Drew. That’s what this is about, right? He doesn’t want the baby—but he doesn’t want to stop sleeping with me either? Having his cake and all that. No strings attached.