“Kade?” She gripped my back. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this.” My hands compressed into fists. I could have sex with any other woman, but not her.
Never her.
Her fingers dug into me, then released. I heard her drag in a shaky breath, then she puffed it out.
I kept my eyes on the wall, wishing I couldn’t smell her or taste her, and I could somehow stop my heart from beating in time with hers.
“Because I split up with you? Is that it?”
I shook my head. I needed to make a joke, to say something charming. Something to make her blush.
But I couldn’t.
I wanted to make love to her, and show her how I felt with my hands and body.
But I couldn’t.
There were so many words fighting for space in my head, I couldn’t say a single one of them.
“Kade.” Her voice was soft and her breath caught like she was crying. “You still can’t let me in, can you?”
Her footsteps moved down the hallway, and I listened to her go out the front door. I had to drive her home, but it took me a while before I was in composed again and in control, and could make my feet move after her.
Chapter Thirteen
Kade
The next day, I was glad Mack’s Place was so busy. Mack came back with a big group of his friends, fans of my TV show streamed in constantly, and Nat and I didn’t have time to be awkward around each other for long.
But after we closed the café that afternoon, I didn’t linger. I went back to Asher’s place, sat at the table on the back deck and stared moodily out to sea.
Working at the café was good for my creativity and I was glad to be able to help Nat out, but last night’s kiss had been a mistake. I couldn’t stop replaying it in my mind, recalling every detail.
My brain was so full of Natalie, my skull was probably turning into a Nat-shaped monstrosity. Even when she wasn’t with me, I wondered what she was doing.
Was she at her desk right now, working on her novel? I could picture her there, chewing her lip as she thought. Then taking her glasses off to polish them, peering short sightedly at the computer screen in that cute way that made me think of how she used to look when she orgasmed…
Groaning, I dragged my hand over my eyes. “Why can’t I get over her?” I asked aloud. “Two billion women in the world. Two billion other choices.”
“Actually, it’s closer to four billion.” My brother’s flat, uninflected voice was so close, I jumped. He dropped soundlessly into the seat next to me and I glowered at him.
“I hate when you appear out of thin air like your damn cat,” I grumbled. “Can’t you take up whistling as a hobby?”
“You may have four billion women to choose from,” he said mildly. “But you’re only in love with one of them.”
I shifted my glower to the people on the beach. “The sooner I get out of this place and away from her, the better.”
“Keep busy,” my brother suggested. “Iola and I are going to see Dad. You should come with us.”
I shook my head. “This whole Nat thing’s pissing me off, and spending time with you and Iola won’t help. Not when you keep giving each other cutesy looks and calling each other pet names.”
He raised his eyebrows at me, and though his expression barely changed, I recognized the twitch in his cheek as one of pure outrage. “Pet names?”
Annoying my brother always made me feel better, and I could feel my bad mood lightening. “Don’t you have sickening pet names for each other? Iola calls you Boo-boo-bear, right? Or Snickerdoodle? Yeah, you look like a Snickerdoodle.”
“She calls me Asher.” His tone was filled with distaste. “I wouldn’t answer to anything else.”
Iola emerged from the house dressed in a white sundress with her ugly dog Ruff ambling beside her. She looked as lovely as ever and when she smiled at me and Asher, I envied how easy their relationship was. They’d fallen in love quickly and decisively, and they’d stayed in love, the way people were supposed to.
Because Iola could fall in love that way, and most of the other three billion, nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety eight women in the world probably could too.
Natalie hadn’t.
And I, of all people, knew the worst thing in the world wasn’t when someone didn’t love you back. No, it was when their love flickered on and off like a two-dollar flashlight with failing batteries.
“Are you two ready to go?” asked Iola. She winked at Asher. “Come on, Snickerdoodle.”
Asher, my inscrutable brother who rarely smiled, snorted a laugh.
I leveled a finger at him. “Ha! I knew it!”
Asher narrowed his eyes at Iola. “You heard Kade’s nonsense and decided to encourage it?”
“I couldn’t help it.” She rolled her lips together, clearly trying to keep a straight face. “Now I want my own pet name. What will you call me?”
“Iola.”
She pouted. “You can be more imaginative. What about Love Bug? Or Snuggle Bunny? And maybe you can be my Hot Lump of Sugar. Mmm-hmm, I like the sound of that. So sweet.”
Asher turned a narrow-eyed glare onto me. “This is your fault.”
I nodded, grimacing. “Believe me, I’m already regretting it.”
But Iola clearly thought the whole thing was hilarious, and I had to put up with her inventing funny names for Asher all the way to Dad’s house. Hearing her call him Cuddle-Pops was a punishment I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy.
And just when I thought the day couldn’t get any weirder, it did.
When we pulled up outside Dad’s place, he was coming out of the next door house. It was the house of his arch-nemesis, a woman he loathed, who he’d been at war with for years.
That’s right, he was coming out of Trixie Watson’s house.
Trixie Watson’s house.
I gaped at him.
Asher gaped at him.
Iola
