You Were Mine Page 52

“I won’t be there. There was nothing to end in the first place, but I told London we weren’t going to work. She’s a part of a world I don’t want.”

The relief in Bethy’s eyes flashed before she covered it up by glancing away. “Oh, OK,” she replied.

“After the party?” I asked. I wasn’t giving up.

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I’m always so exhausted after a big event at the club, so I won’t be much company. I’ll just want to eat and sleep.”

I was completely OK with that. “I’ll feed you and give you a killer foot massage, then let you go to sleep.”

The internal battle playing out across her face had me holding my breath. “OK. But you don’t have to supply the food. We get sent home with tons of leftovers from these things. I’ll have plenty for both of us.”

Mentally, I jumped up and punched the air with a shout of victory. In reality, I managed to stand up calmly and nod my head toward the kitchen. “Great. You want some coffee before you leave?”

Bethy

I held my shirt up to my nose one more time before I pulled it off and inhaled. It smelled like Tripp. And he smelled wonderful. Closing my eyes, I let myself remember how good his hard body felt under mine when I had woken up.

I vaguely remembered being unable to hold my eyes open last night and leaning over to lie on his shoulder. I wish I’d been awake for more of that. I felt like I had missed out. But then, if I’d been awake, there was no way I would have slept on him.

Wearing this shirt all day was tempting, but that would make me creepy. I pulled it off and started to throw it into the dirty clothes hamper and stopped. I dropped it onto my bed instead. I was sleeping in it tonight, and I wasn’t going to let myself think about how weird that was.

Agreeing to go over to his house again so soon was probably a bad idea. It made things appear as if they were moving too fast. I had to protect my heart with this man. I already knew he had the power to shatter me. But when he had said he wasn’t seeing London anymore, I had caved.

Knowing he didn’t want to be a part of the world she lived in eased my mind. Tripp never spoke of his parents, and they didn’t live in Rosemary Beach. They hadn’t been in Rosemary since Jace’s funeral. But summer would be back soon. What if they returned? Tripp hadn’t had to deal with them yet. Would they push him? Would he run away again? I couldn’t get onto his bike and ride away. Even if he asked me to. My life was here. My job, my friends, my security blanket. Everything was here.

Protecting myself wasn’t going to be easy. It wouldn’t take much for me to lose myself in Tripp again. Just like last night: sleeping in his arms had come as naturally as breathing. It had felt right.

My heart wasn’t safe with him. Even if my body had other ideas.

Today I needed space. I would do my usual routine and distance my thoughts from Tripp.

While shopping for groceries, I bought dill-flavored Pringles and peanut-butter-cup ice cream just in case Tripp came over. Those were his favorite snacks, or they had been when he was eighteen. As I cleaned my apartment, I made a note of things I needed to get to make the place look better. Like a blanket to go over the sofa and maybe some new curtains for the windows. I also cleaned things I rarely noticed, like the baseboards and the fronts of the cabinets. I scraped the paint that was peeling and sanded the wall. I hung a wedding photo that Della had sent me of her, Blaire, Harlow, and me over the spot.

Instead of splurging on paper towels, fabric softener, deli turkey meat, and triple-ply toilet paper, I used that money to buy the body wash and lotion I had been coveting at the new shop in town. Then I picked up a bouquet of daisies before I went to the beach.

It wasn’t until my feet hit the warm sand that I realized all the choices I had made today revolved around Tripp. I stopped just before I reached the spot where I had stood the night Jace never came out of the water. Looking at the flowers clutched in my grip, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Daisies had been the one thing about my time with Tripp that I hadn’t been able to let go of. They had been the first flowers anyone had ever given me. Tripp had arrived one night on his bike at my trailer to pick me up, and he had pulled a bouquet out of his jacket. They had been a little smashed, but to me, they had been perfect.

Once a week, Tripp had daisies waiting for me somewhere. I had found them in my locker at work, on my front porch, and at a table he’d reserved for us at the club one night. He’d told me daisies reminded him of me. They weren’t overdone and expected, like roses. They were beautiful and free. They lightened up a room, and although they appeared innocent, there was a wildness about them.

When Jace had given me roses the night he told me he couldn’t lose me and that I was more than just sex for him, that he loved me, I had told him that daisies worked better on me. From then on, he had gotten me daisies, never knowing his cousin had given me daisies first.

I walked the last few steps until I was back at the place where I’d lost my soul. Staring out at the water, I closed my eyes and let the wind and the sound of the waves wrap around me. A grave wasn’t where I wanted to imagine Jace. It was cold and dark in a grave. I believed his spirit stayed here near the ocean he loved. This place made him happy. It was where he’d want to be.

“I brought daisies,” I said. The beach was empty, and my words drifted off in the wind. “I know it was you who always gave me daisies, but I needed to bring them to you today.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Because I need to tell you something. I want you to understand, and I need your forgiveness.

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