The Boy I Hate(49)

He nodded, then rested his hip on the counter beside her.

You have a boyfriend. He loves you. You love him.

She flipped around, bracing her hands on the counter, trying to hold herself steady, but it wasn’t working. Her heart was pounding so hard her legs became weak—she didn’t want to do this. “We should go to bed. We have a big day in the morning,” she whispered. But he didn’t move from his spot.

“Are we going to talk about it?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She pushed off the counter like a snake had just bitten her. “No. Let’s not talk about it.” She shook her head. “Let’s forget about it.” She wrapped her arms around her body, realizing she sounded ridiculous. But it was too late. “I’m not going to climb into bed with you, Tristan.”

He smiled, having to cover his mouth to prevent a laugh. “I didn’t say you were.”

She rubbed both hands over her face and took a deep breath. “There’s only one couch.”

“I’ll take the floor,” he said softly.

They were both quiet for a moment, and she could feel tears threatening behind her eyelids. “I have a boyfriend.”

“I know.”

She turned toward the hallway. There was a sort of charge holding her back, keeping her from running, but this time her conscious won the battle. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she whispered. “Do you need anything in there before I go?”

“No.”

She nodded, wishing she could see his expression. To know what he was thinking… but she couldn’t look back. If she did, she wasn’t sure she could resist throwing herself into his arms.

“I’m sorry about what I said in the restaurant. It’s not true.” She forced her hands to her sides, took her large bag off the couch, and went to the bathroom. Pulling in a shuddery breath, she turned the faucet on in the shower, and let herself cry. What was happening to her? She wasn’t sure, but something was changing. Or maybe her doubts about Steven had been there the whole time and she wouldn’t allow herself to feel them. It was as though the wool had been ripped from her eyes, allowing her to see how bright the world was. How many shades of color she’d been missing. And it had taken Tristan to allow her to see them.





17





Chapter Seventeen





Next morning, Patty drove them to meet the mechanic in the middle of the next town. It was smaller than she’d expected, though still quaint and lively for being so early in the morning. People were out on each corner, strolling from flower shop to antique stores too many to count—and bars—she counted at least three as they drove in from the main road.

Patty dropped them off at the corner, where she kept the car running so her babies wouldn’t fret. “Tell Bob that I sent you,” she said. “He’s a good mechanic and won’t send you a on goose chase if he knows you’re with me.” She then gave them each a brief hug, and hopped back into her van without lingering. “Look me up if you ever come back this way. I’ve downright enjoyed your company.”

They both grinned, then grabbed the rest of their belongings from the back of her van before slapping it shut and sending her on her way.

The auto shop was old fashioned, with stacks of tires along the whole fence line. They entered through the back, where Tristan’s Mustang was already on lifts in the middle of the garage. A man in denim coveralls was poking around in a tool chest, and looked up when they entered the building. As he walked toward them, he wiped his hands on what used to be a red rag. “I’m guessing this beauty is yours?” he said, around a mouthful of tobacco. “Haven’t seen a ’67 since I went to a car show in two-thousand.” He reached his hand out to Tristan and gave it a firm shake. “My name’s Bob.”

“Tristan.” Tristan replied, then glanced up to his car above their heads. “I’m hoping you know what’s wrong with her?”

“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. “Thing is, there’s some good news and some bad news.” He looked to Samantha, nodding his head in hello. “Good news is, it’s only a bad radiator cap.” He turned back to Tristan. “Bad news is, the nearest I can get one is a two towns over.” He spread his legs wide and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his coveralls. “I’ve already sent one of my guys to get it, but I’m afraid I won’t have the car ready ’til morning.”

Tristan ran a hand through his hair and cringed. “Shit. Are you sure? We’re on our way to a wedding—”