Chapter 16

CLAY

My phone buzzes in one hand as I struggle to balance a stack of pizza boxes in the other. Liam”s name flashes on the screen.

I manage to swipe the phone with my thumb. ”Yeah, I’m here already. Open the door,” I say before he can even speak. ”Before these pizzas burn a hole through my hand.”

Liam cackles through the line before it clicks off. A moment later, the side door of the basketball court swings open to reveal my brother grinning at me. I stagger inside, the aroma of hot pizza spilling into the open space.

“Uber eats!” I yell, my voice echoing into the bleachers.

Liam’s teammates ambush me. They grab the pizzas out of my hands like a pack of wild animals, hooting and hollering. My back and shoulders are subject to vigorous slaps that remind me of the end of a Chinese massage. I’m pretty sure my skin matches the color of the tomato sauce on those pizzas.

Before I can follow the guys to dig in, Liam grabs my arm. “How’s things with Kat?”

I shrug. “Good, I guess. I haven’t spoken to her for a while.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“She must be busy.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “You’re not great with relationships. Have you called her?”

“Yeah, last week.”

“I thought you liked her, wanted to date her for real.”

“I do.”

“So have you told her that?”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I haven”t found the right time or words.”

Liam gives me an exasperated look. “Dude, you”re overthinking it. Just be honest with her.”

“I know, I know,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “It”s a little . . . complicated.”

“How so?”

I hesitate before finally admitting, “She”s been distant lately. I don”t want to push her away by telling her how I feel too soon.”

“What was the last conversation about?”

I run the dialogue through my head. “I told her, ‘Sorry you had to put up with the charade for so long.’ She responded with, ‘It”s fine.’ Then I said, ‘Looks like I have the job in the bag.’”

Liam frowns. “And what did she say after that?”

“She said, ‘I”m glad it worked out.’”

Liam slaps me on the side of the head.

“Ouch!” I rub my scalp. “What’s that for?”

“You dummy. She’s not fine. When women say, ‘it’s fine’, it means the opposite. It means you’re in deep poop.”

I massage my forehead—my brain hurts. I’m totally confused. This is why I don’t date. How is a man supposed to understand their partner if they say one thing and mean the opposite? Is there an instruction booklet that explains this secret language? Even if there was a book, would men even read it? We can”t even bring ourselves to ask for directions.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yes. She hasn’t called you since. You haven’t made it clear of your intentions, and she’s likely moved on thinking it’s all over.”

Dang it. This isn”t how I wanted things to end between us. Maybe it started as an idiotic ploy, but the way I”ve come to feel about Kat is anything but fake.

Does she have any idea how bright her smile makes my day? How the easiness around each other makes me feel connected to her? That being my fake fiancée was more of an excuse to spend more time together. When she came along, it showed me what I was missing.

With a sigh, I scrub a hand over my face. “You’re right. I need to go see her. Find out where things are at.”

”Do it today.” Liam crosses his arms. ”You’ve left it too long already.”

“I will. After pizza.” I give his arm a quick squeeze before hurrying off to join the team, who greet me with more cheers and whistles. I may be the pediatric surgeon who brings them pizza, but these guys are like family to me now.

I”m wolfing down a third slice when Liam reappears, a frown creasing his forehead. “Why are you still here?”

“Why are you so bossy when I’m the older brother?”

“I’ve got more experience in relationships, and you have no clue. Someone has to help your poor helpless soul.”

“Gee. Thanks for having faith in me.” I lift my palms. “I’m going. I’ll catch the ferry and tell Kat how I feel.”

Liam playfully messes my hair, which is aggravating as heck. I resist the urge to punch his arm, considering he has a whole team of basketball players who could easily jump me and send me crashing through the floor.

KAT

A rap of knuckles on my front door draws my attention, and I hurry from the stove after a quick check that nothing will boil over or burn while I’m away. Maybe Aunt Marg brought me some yummy treats from the resort kitchen. She’s been pushing food at me like I’m a half-starved child.

Grinning in anticipation, I twist the knob and pull the door open. Bright light blinds me for a few seconds. The sight of Clay rushes through me. “You’re not who I expected.” I’m being surly and irritable, and I think I have every right. “What are you doing here?” I fold my arms and try to stare down my nose at him. Not easy since he’s taller and I’m too surprised to give it much effort.

He inches his hands into his pockets and rocks on his heels as he stands in my doorway. An uncertain look squints his eyes. “I came to see you.”

“Why?” Shock forces the word out. “You could have called. Should have called, actually.” It unsettles me to be surprised by him like this. I thought I’d never see him again. “Do you need another pretend date?”

His showing up out of the blue like this is too much like Danny. Fear attempts to weasel its way into my body. Danny’s gone. I haven’t seen him in weeks. Not since the fake proposal. The reminder of our fake relationship cuts through my fear and lifts my chin.

“Are you mad at me?” He sounds incredulous as he takes a step forward. “Liam was right.”

I very nearly slam the door in his face. “What does that mean?” I’ve asked him three questions and not gotten a single answer yet. I back into the living room with Clay following me.

He closes the door, and there’s a single second when worry takes hold.

I remind myself that I’m safe with Clay. He lied and manipulated, but he’s not dangerous.

“I talked to Liam after our last chat. He seemed to think that your ‘Fine’ meant something different. I took it at face value. But this isn’t fine.” He motions at me while frowning.

He talked to Liam about me? I can’t decide if I’m flattered or annoyed. Both. He had no right, but knowing that he was thinking about me has a strange effect on my anger. I lower my arms and turn my back on him. “I’m in the middle of cooking.” It’s a clear dismissal, but instead of leaving, Clay follows me into the kitchen.

He’s never been inside my unit before, and it makes my nerves jump. It’s my parents’ place, with all their stylistic choices on full display, but it’s like a second home to me. I’m comfortable here with Mom’s checkered tablecloth covering the round table and Dad’s rubber boots resting upside down on the boot rack.

The pot on the stove bubbles and hisses when tiny droplets spill over onto the glass top. I turn down the eye and pick up the noodles.

“What are you making?” Clay’s right behind me, his presence as solid as the walls closing us off from the world.

I shrug and drop a handful of noodles into the pot. “Spaghetti.”

“My favorite.” He rolls up his white shirt sleeves. “Can I help?”

“No.” I answer before I can think. “You never said why you’re here.” My pulse flutters with the thought that he came back to tell me he has feelings for me. I shove that thought aside and focus on stirring the noodles before they clump.

“I needed to talk to you face to face.” Clay’s voice is quiet at my back. A cabinet door opens and he riffles around.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I spin to face him.

“Looking for sauce ingredients.” He’s shoulders deep in the pantry, his voice muffled by the wooden walls. “Or even canned.”

“Get out of my stuff.” This is the last straw. I grab the back of his shirt and pull. His head knocks against the bottom of the door, but I refuse to feel sympathy. “You can’t drop in like this.” My voice shakes, and I hate myself for the moment of weakness. “This isn’t right. This is my house, my space. You can’t...” I inhale until my trembling eases. “You’re acting like Danny right now.”

Clay’s entire body freezes. His eyes widen so much it’s almost funny. “I...” He searches my face, and whatever he sees there causes him to take a step back. “I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry.” He steps back again. “I’ll go.”

He does exactly that, getting as far as the front door before I call out. “Why did you need to see me when you’ve already ended things?”

“Ended things?” Confusion laces his voice. “What do you mean?”

“You made it clear when you called that we were done. You said that it was nice pretending together, then you hung up.” I clench the wooden spoon in a tight fist.

Clay stands at the door, his hand on the knob and his face stricken.

“Since you can’t seem to make up your own mind, I’ll do it for us both. It’s over, Clay. I won’t be jerked around. I went through enough of that with Danny. I won’t let myself go down that road again.”

“Kat.” He breathes my name like a prayer.

I’m fired up and ready to go. I’ve dealt with deceitful men before. If I let him convince me that he meant no harm, I’ll regret it later. I use my fear to fuel my voice. “There’s no need for anything else between us. Not even friendship. You don’t need me to help with your job.” I don’t know if they ever made it official. Is that why he really came? Did he need one more ‘date’ to convince them. Well, too bad. I’m done pretending. I breathe in deep and meet his stare. “Thanks for helping me with Danny. We’re even now.”

“That’s all this was to you? You were playing along to repay me for helping you?” His voice is soft, sounding almost regretful.

I jerk my head in a nod. “That’s what we agreed on.” I need to push him away for good. There’s only one sure way to do that. I’ll deal with my self regret later, when I’m alone. “For the record, I regret it. We never should have lied to help you get that job. I’m glad things worked out for you, but I’m done.” The spoon slashes through the air with a whistling wave.

Clay stands there another second, then twists the knob and walks out. His head droops and he looks away from me as he closes the door.

I wait until he passes the window, his shoulders and spine rounded forward in defeat, before I move to the door and lock it. I feel terrible, even though I knew it had to be said.

The whole thing was a lie that I let myself believe. Clay never cared about me. And the only way I’ll get rid of my feelings for him is to cut him from my life completely.

I head back to the kitchen and turn off the stove. I can’t eat. My stomach writhes with nausea and bitter bile climbs the back of my throat. Clay is not Danny.

Knowing that doesn’t stop the unease clawing through me.

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