I always do. God, how could he be so laissez-faire about this? Will he feel the same cavalier changing of the guard attitude when he’s done with me?
“Relax, Lola. I’m not worried about it.” He patted my thigh. “Which means you shouldn’t be either.”
Mental scolding engaged, I tried to focus on the topic at hand. If he wasn’t worried about his newfound unemployed status, I guess I shouldn’t be either. I unclenched my fists from my laptop bag and set it underneath the coffee table.
“Are we still a go for this weekend?” I tried to change the topic to something else, even though everything still felt all kinds of off. Internally, I was still freaking the fuck out, but I was trying not to be. That had to be good for something. Why else would they have the phrase fake it till you make it.
“What’s this weekend?”
“The trip to Santa Cruz with my family.”
His brow furrowed in confusion as he pulled the cigarette from his lips and blew smoke straight up into the air. “You never told me about this trip.”
“I didn’t?” I asked and tried to remember if I really hadn’t mentioned it at all. I could’ve sworn we had talked about it, but hell, Annie had been doing her usual routine of texting and calling me about last-minute details—especially ones that revolved around Reed coming along—that I wouldn’t be too surprised if I’d forgotten to actually mention it to him. My sister had a knack for making you feel like you’d had fifteen conversations with ten different people, when in reality, you’d only spoken to her.
“Nope. You definitely didn’t tell me about a trip with your family.”
“Well…I guess I’m telling you about it now,” I said with a smile, but he didn’t return it. His blue eyes searched mine for an explanation.
“I mean, it’s only Sunday night,” I hedged gently, “so that gives you like a whole five days to make arrangements. It’s just a short weekend trip to Santa Cruz. We’re heading out Friday morning and coming back on Sunday night. And since my family is really excited over the idea that I’m finally bringing someone along, I really, really hope you’ll forgive me for being a total spaz and come.”
His face remained neutral—that damnable jut of his chin and fire in his eyes that said his emotions lived under a lock and code—and I decided a little begging wouldn’t hurt.
I clasped my hands together and flashed my biggest puppy-dog eyes, hoping he’d dial in the combination and open up the window he usually let me look inside. “Pretty please, Reed? Please spend the weekend with me and my crazy family. Even Brian managed to get the green light from the president,” I teased.
But it had no power in lightening the mood. If I were a stand-up comedian, the audience would’ve been one bad joke away from booing me off the stage.
“I’m sorry, LoLo, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it this time.” He climbed from the couch, stubbing out his only half-smoked cigarette in his ashtray, and then walked back to the coffee table to take out another.
My face fell and my hands followed suit, dropping into my lap. “You already have plans this weekend?”
“No,” he responded, but he offered no explanation. In fact, he was busier trying to arrange his next smoke than trying to pay attention to me.
What the hell? Why was he acting so weird about this?
“I’m confused, Reed,” I admitted, and my eyes narrowed in his direction as they searched his face for a clue. “What are you trying to tell me here?”
“I don’t do what people expect.” The cigarette stopped halfway to his lips before falling back to his side. I watched it, focused on it, like I was outside of my body.
His responses felt evasive and off-kilter from the honesty I’d grown to expect from him. It didn’t feel like Reed at all. At least, not the Reed I had come to know and love.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that just because your family expects me to go, doesn’t mean I’m going.” He shrugged. That stupid fucking shrug. “I’m sorry, Lola, but I can’t.”
“But you said you don’t have plans this weekend.”
“I know.” His gloomy eyes met mine, but they were devoid of any explanation that I could grasp.
“So why wouldn’t you want to go?”
“Because I don’t.”
Those three little words stabbed me straight in the chest. I knew I’d dropped this trip on him last minute, but it was like he didn’t even care to try to make it work.
Oh, that’s right, he didn’t want to make it work.