Part 10 (1/2)

That was it? Everything inside me tightened. I knew I had no right to feel disappointed or irritated, but since when did feelings make sense?

”I suppose it could help to rub Rascal's nose in it,” I said, bringing up the one name I knew would get a rise from him. ”I mean, showing him that my dress and I don't need his refund, anyway.”

He frowned, and little lines furrowed in his brow. ”How would he know you were wearing it? Did he see the dress?”

”He's heard about it.”

”From who?”

”From me.”

Jared's gaze whipped toward mine. ”You two have talked about the dress?”

”Of course.”

”Why?”

”I didn't want to let him completely off the hook.” When he didn't respond, I poked him in the bicep. ”Do you have a problem with that?”

He shook his head. ”I'm surprised he didn't mention it.”

I let his words sink in. Then I laughed. ”To you?”

”Yeah, to me. And the other guys. At billiards.”

”Billiards?”

”You know, shooting pool. We're in a league at a coffeehouse on Moorpark. Have been for over a year. And it seems like every tournament, it comes down to him against me. And believe me, the guy shoots his mouth off about everything.”

Confusion and disappointment tumbled into my strange mix of feelings. ”So that's where the rivalry came up? So this thing between you ... it's about playing pool?”

”Yeah. But it doesn't matter how it started.”

And here I'd been stupid enough to start to think that maybe, just maybe, the tension between them had something to do with me.

”You know, Nic, I was surprised last June, when you were suddenly without a date. Since I'd driven you to all those stores and everything, and I didn't have anything lined up myself. I could have, you know, stepped up.”

And been my pity date?

The mortification was once again descending. How fast could I get away from this car?

I clutched the door handle.

”Where are you going?”

I turned back to him, trying to compose myself, to somehow bring this back to business. ”I'm going to walk home. And put the rest of the flyers in mailboxes along the way.”

”What?” Honest-to-G.o.d confusion clung to his words. ”Nic? Did I say something wrong?”

I cranked the door open. ”See ya.”

”What's wrong?”

Something snapped inside me. I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn't stop myself. All the embarra.s.sment I'd suffered with him piled up-the free car rides, the printing, the manual labor he'd ”donated” today. It was all charity.

”Maybe I don't need your pity, Jared McCreary! Or your big brother act. Just do me a favor and stop helping me out.”

He swore under his breath and grabbed my forearm. Not hard enough to hurt me, but certainly enough to indicate his confusion. ”Don't go,” he said, his voice cracking.

I shook free, jumped out (leaving my lunch, but oh well), and slammed the door. My face felt as hot as the blood rus.h.i.+ng through my veins.

Pounding the pavement in the direction of my house, I paused whenever I could get my thoughts together enough to open a mailbox and jam a flyer in. But mostly my senses were filled with the roar of Jared's V-8 as he crept along behind me.

”Come on!” he yelled through his open pa.s.senger window. ”Nic, this is stupid!”

My own house was suddenly within sight. I wanted to run inside, fall down on my bed, and beat my fists into my pillow. Jared and Rascal's rivalry was about pool. Jared felt sorry for me-I was poor and dateless and he thought he should have been my mercy date.

I picked up my pace. Until he let out a frustrated growl and his tires screeched on by me.

Good.

Good! Just what I'd wanted. Right?

Then how come I felt like I couldn't breathe or swallow?

I watched, in a sort of muddied stupor, as the Camaro's taillights raced down my street. Until they stopped and went bright red right in front of my house.

After an endless moment, the car lurched forward and pulled in against the curb, behind a dark green minivan.

Jared jumped out and headed for my lawn.

Obviously to wait for me.

I picked up speed and made it to our property. But what I saw did not immediately compute: not one, but two guys on my front walk. Snarling at each other. Feet spread, chests aligned, barely enough s.p.a.ce between them for me to attempt some heroic stay of execution.

”I told you,” Jared spat at Rascal, his mouth pulled tight against his teeth. ”She's off-limits.”

Rascal shuffled his body weight on my front walk and grunted out a laugh. ”Yeah? She told Kylie you're not even her boyfriend.”

What in the world was Rascal even doing here?

Rascal must have felt my presence, because without tearing his gaze from Jared's, he called out to me. ”Hey, Nicolette! Your bodyguard here seems to have a problem with me being on your property!”

I dropped the flyers in a pile on the lawn and moved in closer. ”Jared was just leaving, actually,” I informed them both.

Rascal forced a laugh, then body-slammed Jared, whose face went all blotchy with anger. He swung out, his fist connecting with Rascal's nose, making a sickening crunching sound.

Ack! My hands slapped to my own nose with a cringe.