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“Good, now give me the keys to your motorcycle.” She holds out her hand, wiggling her fingers. “That way I can drive myself home and you and Tessa can talk.”
“I’m sure Tessa doesn’t want to talk,” I say, pushing on in a hushed voice when Binx tries to cut in, “I tried to talk to her earlier tonight. She made it clear she isn’t interested.”
“Only because you didn’t try hard enough,” Binx whispers, glancing over her shoulder before moving deeper into the kitchen. “You need to grovel, brother. Get down on your knees and beg for a second chance. She’s worth it and you two would be perfect together. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. I was trying to set her up with Maynard, but—”
“Maynard.” My upper lip curls. “Cousin Maynard? With the hair all over his back?”
“Yes. He’s fun. And nice.”
“He looks like something a cat coughed up on a bad day,” I shoot back, more irritated by this idea than I should be. “I’ve literally never seen a man that covered in hair. It stretches from his neck all the way down to his waist. And who knows how much farther it goes. I’ve only seen him in a swimsuit.”
“So?” Binx shrugs. “Hair can be removed. Asshole is harder to fix. And since when did you get so superficial and judgy?”
“I’m not superficial and jugdy,” I say. “I just think Tessa deserves someone better.”
“Someone like you?” She arches a brow. “I happen to agree, but you fucked things up straight out of the gate. The only way out of a fuck up this big is sustained, persistent groveling. You have to prove you’re seriously sorry and would never do anything like that again. Believe me, I know.”
I frown. “How? No offense, little sister, but you haven’t dated anyone in years.”
She crosses her arms. “Sure, I have. I just keep things quiet. I get enough shit from Mom already. If she knew I was crushing on a guy sixteen years older than I am with a kid and a history of trouble with the law, she’d ship me off to a convent against my will.”
My brows shoot up. “Woah. Yeah, she would. What kind of trouble with the law?”
She waves a hand. “Not bad trouble, just…trouble. And it was a long time ago, when he was young. He’s different now.”
I shoot her a dubious look.
“Seriously, he is,” she insists. “He’s an amazing father and a total badass in his new career. His business is about to blow up, he only goes out on Saturday nights, when his mom can babysit, and he loves working out, rock climbing, and tattoos as much as I do. He’s a total catch.” She sighs. “His only flaw is that he thinks I’m a child, when I am clearly a badass woman in control of my own destiny, who is perfectly capable of making mature decisions about who I want to date.”
My eyes narrow as I try to connect the dots. But I don’t know many single dads. I don’t run in those circles. I spend most of my time with other lawyers or hanging out with my family.
I’m about to ask her for a name, figuring a background check from a concerned older brother could be a good thing to have, when my phone buzzes on the counter. Before I can reach for it, it buzzes again and again, as texts pop through one after another.
Frowning, I swipe up, my stomach cramping as I read the string of messages from my ex—
Camping trip last October, huh? Interesting. Because according to your social media timeline, you didn’t go camping this past October.
But you did the OCTOBER BEFORE.
When you and I were still together, Wesley!
And you came back home the next morning acting all weird and saying you wanted to talk. But I never found out what you wanted to talk about because that was the morning, I told you I thought I was pregnant.
I guess that’s why you didn’t tell me that you CHEATED?
Is that why we didn’t have sex again for the rest of our relationship?
Is that why you broke up with me, even though I was trying so hard to be what you wanted and even told my sister that she had to find somewhere else to live if we moved in together? (Even though Daria and I have always lived together, and you have FOUR bedrooms in your house and one of them is over the garage and you literally never would have had to see Daria if you hated her that much. But whatever. I guess it’s not Daria you hated. I guess it was me.)
“Oh shit,” Binx mutters from near my elbow, making me flinch. “Oh shit, Wes. This is bad. This is really, really bad.”
No sooner are the words out of her mouth than a final text appears—But that’s fine. I hate you, too, now. Daria was right. You’re an asshole and a liar and you never loved me the way I deserve to be loved. I should have let her handle you a long time ago. Guess now…I will.
“Run,” Binx says, squeezing my arm. “You have to run. Now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter, my thoughts racing.
“I’m not,” she says, squeezing harder. “She’s going to kill you. And Tessa. And maybe me, just for being related to you and friends with Tessa.”
