Tessa leans against the counter, her finger steadily tapping her mug while she stares at a spot on the floor. “Really?”
I nod, causing her to look over at me when I don’t give her a verbal response.
“And this is bothering you because . . .”
I bring my hands to my lap, keeping them folded together. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that this town is too fucking small to avoid her.”
“So what. You’re over her, right?”
I squeeze my hands together in my lap. “Yeah,” I reply, my voice hardening.
Tessa sets the mug down on the island and drums the counter with her fingers. “You’re such a shit liar, Reed. You wouldn’t be here, stressing the fuck out, if you were over her.”
“I’m not stressing out!” I clamp my eyes shut, taking in a deep breath while the one person I thought I could talk to about this laughs quietly across from me.
I need new fucking friends.
“I’m actually happy about this.”
I slowly open my eyes. “What?” I ask, dragging out the word.
Tessa piles her long, red hair on top of her head and secures it with the band around her wrist. “You said it. This is a small town, which means, the chances of me having the amazing opportunity of running her bitch-ass over with my car is actually looking really good right now. With her living in another state, that probably would never happen. And, I’m sleeping with a cop, so . . . that’s like an automatic get-out-of-jail-free card.” She shrugs her shoulders before picking up her mug. “I can pretty much get away with murder here.”
I snort. “Who are you kidding? Luke would stick your ass in jail for a few days and get off on it.”
A wicked smile spreads across her lips. “The gorgeous bastard would do that, wouldn’t he?”
I lean my elbows on the counter, digging the tips of my fingers into my temples. It feels like my heart is now lodged in my skull, and with every beat, my head throbs with a pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt. A slow pressure builds behind my eyes, filling my vision with blotches of indiscernible color. If this is what a fucking migraine is like, I’ll start having sympathy for the people who complain about them, because this shit sucks.
“Reed.”
“Yeah?”
She leans down, bringing her face to my level. All trace of Tessa’s typical smart-ass demeanor is gone, replaced with the same look of concern my sister gave me, standing in my kitchen.
“Don’t,” I warn, because I know what she’s about to say. “I’m not hung up on her. That’s not what this is about.”
Her eyebrows pinch together in doubt. “Then what is it about? Because right now, I’m two seconds away from offering you the pint of Ben & Jerry’s I have in my freezer.”
I straighten up, letting my hands fall to the counter. “I don’t know what the hell that means, but I’m not hungry.”
Tessa lets out an exhaustive sigh, mumbling the word “men” under her breath before taking a sip of her coffee.
“Look,” I begin, reaching down to pat Max when he nudges against my leg. “I don’t need a walking reminder of the pussy-whipped asshole I used to be nine years ago coming back into my life. The fact that I ever let some chick get to me like that isn’t something I like thinking about, and having Molly in Ruxton is going to make that a problem. Ow! What the fuck, Max?” I push him away, rubbing my hand along the side of my leg that’s just been mauled. “Jesus Christ. You need your nails clipped.”
“He just got them clipped. That’s why they’re so sharp.” Tessa walks over to the container of dog treats on the counter and pops the lid off. As soon as she does that, Max goes flying at her, leaping off the floor to get to the treat she’s holding in the air.
“So, you’re telling me that you’re over her.”
“Yes.”
“Completely over her.”
“Yes.”
“Good. So when you see her, not if, because it’s bound to happen, and she tells you she’s made a huge mistake and wants you to give her another chance, what are you going to say?”
She drops the treat into Max’s awaiting mouth, brushes her hands off, and recaps the container, pushing it against the backsplash. Max crawls underneath the kitchen table, cracking into his treat, while Tessa holds her hands out, waiting expectantly for my response.
“Well?”
I stare at her. “Do you think I’d actually take her back?”
“I don’t know,” she answers, moving back to stand across from me. Her fingers play with the knot in her T-shirt. “This girl affected you, Reed, and not just in your typical break-up sort of way. You were straight-up devastated after what she did to you.”