Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
RHOADS
“Go after her, dummy!” Candace smacks me on the back of the head.
“Chloe, wait!” I charge into the parking lot, but by the time I spot her car, she’s already pulling out onto the main road. Hands shaking, I dial her number. It goes straight to voicemail. Either she ignored it or she turned off her phone. Expletives stream out of my mouth.
“Oof, I think we need to wash your mouth out,” Candace says. At my glare, she drops the humor.
“I screwed it up, C.”
She points. “If you’d just told her how you feel, you would be kissing her right now instead of watching her taillights.”
She’s right. I kick a small rock. “So what do I do now? She obviously thinks I’m shady and playing the both of you.”
“As if you could ever play me.”
“Not the point, Candace.”
“Right. You just have to get her to talk to you. Or at least to listen. Leave her a message.”
I grimace. “No one my age listens to voicemail.”
“Leave her one anyway. Send her a text or five hundred. I don’t know. Do something. Make a move. Quit hiding and take a real risk. Tell her the whole, scary truth. You’re never going to get what you want if you’re too afraid to ask for it.”
“I don’t know how.” My vocal cords sound as wrung out as an overused sweat towel. “I tried the breakfast thing. But your text and her seeing us together blew up in my face. She won’t talk to me.”
No Strings Simpson.
A player and heartbreaker, just like her ex.
“You’re smart, Rhoads. Get creative.”
Creative.
That lights something up inside of me. A spark of an idea. For the first time since chipotle bacon, a bit of hope unfurls in me. “Candace, you’re a genius.”
“Obviously. Now quit wasting time and go get your girl.”