"Did he say that?"
"Basically."
"It wasn't just hooking up anymore, was it?"
"It was," I insist. "It is, I mean. It was just a fling. That's all it was supposed to be, so I don't know why I'm even upset. Something's wrong with me. It feels like someone punched me in the stomach and like I'm on the verge of throwing up, except I can't throw up and I just want to cry."
"I think that's maybe how you feel when you're in love," Sable says.
"Like you're going to vomit?"
"You're asking the wrong girl, but that's what I hear."
"Don't be ridiculous," I snap. "I'm not in love with him. I just like sleeping with him. A lot. More than I thought I could ever like anything. And I want to hang out with him…all the time. He's and he makes me laugh, and I want so much for him to be happy and –"
Oh God.
I stop short in the middle of vomiting up a torrent of words.
"It's only been a summer. And it was just supposed to be sex. I'm not in love with him. I can't be in love with him."
But as soon as I say the words out loud, I know it in my gut.
Sable just sits there looking at me. A faint knock on the door interrupts us and then the door swings open. Tank stands there with three shopping bags in his hands.
"Oh, God," I say, the realization washing over me. "I'm in love with Colton King. And I totally fucked it all up."
"Shit. Don't get mad," Tank says, a sheepish look on his face. "I'm interrupting, I know. I walked in at a really bad time. I just brought you something." He sets the bags on the coffee table and pulls out a bottle of tequila. "The good stuff," he promises. A couple of limes roll across the table, stopped by the bottle. "And snacks. Because, well, I don't know anything that doesn't feel better after tequila and snacks."
"Are those Oreos I see in there?" Sable asks.
"Two bags," Tank confirms. "Okay, one and a quarter. I got hungry on the walk home. I didn't know what snacks you liked, so I grabbed a whole bunch of different ones."
I sniffle. "I want to hug you right now."
Tank blushes and looks at Sable, who practically beams at him. "Thank you for that," Sable says, standing up. "So…why don't we get good and drunk?"
"You girls go ahead," Tank says. "I just came back to drop these bags off and run."
"You don't have to go, Tank," I say.
"Yeah, I do. Mrs. K is coming. She's making dinner. I need to get back to the house before she gets there. I'm going to kick Colton's ass for making you cry, and it's not cool to do it right in front of his mother."
"Don't kick his ass," I protest. I'm not actually sure if Tank is serious or joking. I'm leaning toward serious.
"I don't understand," Tank says. "How else is he going to know he did something bad?"
"He didn't do anything bad," I say. "I did."
Tank looks back and forth between the two of us. "I doubt that," he says. "And I'm not making any promises when it comes to the ass kicking."
37
Colton
"You're chopping those veggies like they did something to you," my mom says, her back to me as she stirs a pot on the stove.
I look down at the onion that I've minced into pieces so small it practically looks like it's been pulverized. "Nope," I say. "Just chopping vegetables."
"Is Cassie coming for dinner this time?" my mom asks, her voice innocent.
"Nope." I clench the knife tightly in my hand, my other hand balled into a fist at my side.
"Are you going to spend the night sulking?" my mom asks.
"I'm not sulking. I'm irritated because you won't lay off about Cassie."
"Have you forgotten that I made it through you and Drew's teenage years?" she asks. "I know sulking when I see it."
"Well, this isn't it," I say, the edge in my voice unmistakable. "I'm just standing here chopping vegetables."
"And sulking," my mother adds.
"I'm not sulk—"
"He made her cry." Tank appears in the kitchen out of nowhere.
"Shut up about shit you don't know anything about, Tank," I growl.
"You did what?" My mother whirls around and crosses her arms across her chest.
"I'm not talking about this," I say. "Especially not in the middle of the goddamn house. It's none of your business. That goes for both of you."
"It's my business when I see her crying," Tank says.
"What did you do?" my mother asks me, glaring at me with her hand on her hip.
"Stay out of it, both of you," I say.
Tank shakes his head. "Cassie says she fucked things up," he starts, addressing my mother.