There’s enough gossip about me in this town as it is.
“It’s okay,” I say, trying to deflect. “It’s not even worth talking about.”
“You’re frustrating.” He steps forward, smile tight, and eyes glancing over my shoulder to DeeDee again. “What’s the big deal? If you don’t go, you’ll always wonder what if, and if you do go, you’ll know the answer.”
“I don’t need to know the answer. Things are fine just how they are.”
He raises his eyebrows and gives me a look that tells me he’s been talking with Ryder and knows how much I’m struggling to make the business work. “C’mon, Say, I’ve already looked at my schedule and I can swing the free time.”
My eyes narrow. “How did you know the date?”
“I asked Ryder.” He shrugs but his eyes hold no apology.
“You’re arrogant to assume I’d say yes. I don’t care what people think about me. Never have. Never will.”
“If there’s one thing I do remember, it’s definitely that.” His smile turns soft. Eyes unrelenting. “I always loved that about you.”
His comment strikes a very unwelcome chord. Loved. Loved about me. Past tense, Saylor. Past tense. Regardless, memories flash through my mind. The times I’d run wild and carefree and he’d just sit back and shake his head with that little smirk and let me do whatever it was I was doing without saying a word. No roll of his eyes. No flush of embarrassment. Just complete acceptance.
Be everything Mitch wouldn’t let you be.
Funny thing is, Hayes let me be me.
“Yeah, well . . . some things never change.” I shrug, a bit uncomfortable with the praise and needing to change the course of the conversation. “What kind of cupcakes can I get you?”
He doesn’t speak for a minute, lips pursed, eyes questioning me without uttering a word, but I get the sense he wants to say more but is holding back. His gaze flickers to the case and then back to mine. “Just a dozen of whatever is your favorite.”
“I’ll get them,” DeeDee says as she steps up to the display case with a pink and white striped box in her hand.
“Okay. Thanks.” I’m a bit startled because I wanted something to do to busy my hands and now I’m stuck looking at Hayes.
He smiles. “One of these days, Saylor, you and I are going to sit down and have a proper conversation where I can explain what happened. Why I left. And then you can decide whether you want to accept my apology or not. It will make life so much easier on you to have a reason, because this one minute you’re pissed at me, the next minute you’re smiling dance you keep doing has to be exhausting.”
And just like that he’s flipped the switch to my anger. “Like I said, you’re an arrogant ass.”
“Perhaps. But even so, I’d rather you know the why behind—”
“It’s been ten years, Hayes. Explanations don’t really matter anymore.” My fingers twist together. My feet shift again. The topic in general unnerves me.
“Reasons always matter. Always,” he says as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. We stand in heated silence because as much as I don’t want to admit he’s right, he is: about my constantly warring attitude toward him in the three times I’ve seen him since he’s been home, and about the fact that knowing why might help add closure to something I thought I’d gotten over but obviously haven’t.
“Here you go,” DeeDee says breaking the moment between us, placing the box on the counter beside me.
“Thank you, DeeDee. I appreciate it.” Hayes looks at her nametag and then back up to her, offering up his megawatt smile. DeeDee stands speechless, grin so wide her cheeks probably hurt. “How much do I owe?”
“It’s on the house,” I say.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want your charit—”
“I’ll walk you out, Hayes.” I move from behind the counter, effectively ending the argument I feel like purposely picking with him over calling me out on my schizophrenic behavior.
“Whatever the lady wants, she gets,” he grumbles to DeeDee but I can hear his amusement, know he’s probably flashing her a smile as he gathers his box of cupcakes.
I wait outside, surprised at the chill despite the sunny sky, and cross my arms over my chest to ward it off. The bell on the door sounds, telling me Hayes is behind me.
“You know, you’re still cute when you’re pissed off at me.”
“You are so frustrating,” I mutter and at the same time dislike that parts of me melt inside at the fact that he still notices. Still remembers.