He turned his head toward the window, and I jumped back behind the light pole, knocking into someone.
“Sorry,” I said immediately, stooping to pick up the person’s bag that had fallen without even looking to see who I’d bumped into.
The person giggled. “That’s okay.”
I looked up and into the eyes of a girl who looked like she was in high school, maybe a freshman in college at the oldest.
“Sorry,” I said again, handing her the bag. She smiled at me, and another giggle slipped out, reminding me of Jake’s sister Ashley. Shit. With one last look at the coffee shop, I hightailed it out of there. On the walk back to my Jeep, the absurdity of what I’d done hit me. I was a bona fide creeper. Not only that, but if Becca learned that I’d spied on her, she would never forgive me. In the end, it hadn’t even been worth it because I didn’t feel any better about the situation.
When I got home, I made myself a whiskey and Sprite, heavy on the whiskey. I normally stuck to beer, but that wouldn’t cut it that night, not after I’d spied on Becca on a date. It wasn’t my pathetic actions that bothered me, though—it was the fact that Becca had been on a date at all.
One drink led to a second then a third as I watched the clock. How long does it take to drink one damn cup of coffee? She should have been home by now.
I didn’t need to know Blake to know that he wasn’t good enough for her because no one was good enough for her. Becca was special. I’d known that since the day I met her. Roman had brought me to his house for the first time, and Becca had been pissed at him because he’d downloaded some things he shouldn’t have on their shared laptop. It had been so full of viruses, Becca couldn’t fix it herself, and Roman had refused to cough up the money to have it professionally cleaned, even though it was his fault. When we later tried to go on his Xbox, we found that she’d hacked all of his accounts and locked him out. She’d hit him where it hurt and refused to budge. I can clearly remember her calmly crossing her arms and evenly meeting her brother’s gaze while he yelled until he was blue in the face. I might have fallen in love with her just a little in that moment.
And maybe it was the whiskey talking, but if she was going to end up with someone who wasn’t good enough, then why couldn’t that someone be me?
CHAPTER 14
Becca
BLAKE WAS A ridiculously sweet guy, and the more I stared at him, the more good-looking he became. Unfortunately, he was already in love with someone else. Womp, womp.
Technically, I was, too, but the whole point of me going out with Blake was to forget about Carson. But Blake? Not so much. He had just broken up with his high school sweetheart who attended George Mason. After almost four years, the long distance had finally proven too much.
“I’m sorry,” he said as we walked to his car. “I didn’t mean to talk your ear off about Sadie.”
“It’s okay.” I was a little disappointed, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. He already felt bad enough.
Blake flashed a wry grin. “I suppose now is not the best time to ask for a second date.”
I stared at him for a moment before it clicked. He didn’t even realize he was still hopelessly head over heels for his ex. “You’re not over her.” Lucky girl. Blake really was a nice guy. For his sake, I hoped they could work things out.
“Yeah, I am.” At my stern glance, he sighed. “I’m working on it. But I definitely could be with the right girl.”
I shook my head. “That’s not the way it works. That’s called a rebound. You need to get over her first.”
Blake’s situation was eerily similar to my own but with one key difference. He was definitely rebounding, but I’d never actually been with Carson, so technically, I wasn’t rebounding. Basically, though, we were two hopeless fools. Part of me wasn’t surprised in the least about this new development. For whatever reason, I seemed to attract guys who were friend material. Case in point? Evan, Blake, and Carson.
Blake apologized the whole way home, sounding completely miserable. Poor guy.
“Seriously, it’s fine,” I told him. “I was going stir-crazy in the house and needed to get out. Mission accomplished. The sticky buns were a nice bonus.” I patted my belly, which I’d filled to the max. On my lap, I held a to-go box with a bun for Carson. Just one, though, because I actually knew what kind was his favorite—cinnamon. Lucky for him, I was so full that I wouldn’t poach his treat. Maybe.
When we pulled onto Carson’s street, I told Blake he could drop me off in front of the townhouse instead of bothering to find parking. Even if the date hadn’t been a bust, it wasn’t as if I would invite him into Carson’s house. That would have been weird on so many levels. Aside from that, I didn’t think Carson had it in him to be civil to my date for an extended period. He’d barely managed the two minutes when Blake had come to the door.
As I walked toward the townhouse, I tried to talk myself into believing what I’d told Blake—that everything was fine, that it didn’t matter that the first date I’d been on in over a year was a wash. Blake was a nice guy, and his intentions had been good, so I wasn’t upset with him. I wasn’t upset at all exactly. I was just… I didn’t know what I was. Disappointed, maybe? No, that wasn’t it. I was simply tired. Everything about my life exhausted me at the moment, most of all this damn concussion. I was so over it. I might not have been ready to go back to my apartment yet, especially since Lucy was still out of town, but I was going to class tomorrow no matter how much Carson protested. Friday was the perfect day to go back because if it wiped me out, I could rest all weekend.
I tried the doorknob before bothering to fish my key out of my purse and found the door unlocked. Carson was sitting on the couch, a glass in his hand. His eyes immediately went to my face, searching. I had no idea what he was looking for, though. His expression reminded me of a puppy who’d been kicked, and it made me glad I’d gotten him a treat. The loss to Miami was weighing on him. He didn’t talk about the pro draft much, but he had to be worried about it, especially since the team wasn’t playing nearly as well as it had in previous years. Then he’d skipped practice. Though I’d told him not to, I felt guilty about it. If I’d only made sure the deadbolt on my apartment door was locked, all of this might have been avoided.
I held up the to-go box containing the sticky bun. “I got something for you.”
Unfortunately, the sight of the Beans and Buns box didn’t change his expression. “Where is he?”
Okay, so he’s not moping about football. Totally got that one wrong. I put the box on the table next to the couch and crossed my arms over my chest. “On his way home.” It was on the tip of my tongue to put Carson out of his misery and tell him that Blake and I would just be friends, but it wasn’t any of his business. I didn’t understand why he cared so much.
“Good.”
I could not even do this with him. “I need to take my contacts out.” I’d been sleeping in them longer than I was supposed to because I hadn’t felt like dealing with them. Now, though, they were simultaneously dry and dirty. The first major thing I planned to spend my money on once I graduated and got a job would be corrective eye surgery. I’d been shoving contacts in my eyes for the last decade, and I was over it.