Tossed Into Love
Page 33
“You had a really weird way of showing it,” Libby says. I look at her and notice that she’s frowning. “You were always so short with me, always a jerk to me whenever we were around each other.”
Studying her expression, I let out a heavy breath. “My ex did a number on me, and I took it out on you,” I admit.
Her frown deepens.
“So you were mean to her because of your ex?” Miss Ina says. I look across the table at the older woman. “Are you crazy?” Fighting back a smile, I shake my head. “You must be if you let your past decide your future.”
“My ex was materialistic. Nothing I ever did for her seemed like enough. She only cared about money and designer labels. When I first met Libby, I overheard her talking about a handbag and—”
“You assumed that Libby was just like her.” Miss Ina cuts me off, her eyes turning squinty, her lip curling up in disgust.
“I think that he was scared because he knew in some way that if he gave Libby a chance that he would fall in love with her,” Fawn says.
My heart thumps hard because her words ring true. I’ve really fallen for Libby over these last few weeks, and I know I’m falling in love with her.
“Guys are always running away from love.”
“Not me,” Levi says.
She looks up at him and smiles wistfully. “No, not you. You ran right into love with me while I was the one trying to run away.”
“I still caught you,” he says. I watch him toy with the rings on her finger.
“How exactly were you a jerk to my girl?” Aiden asks, his voice a deep rumble.
My body goes tight.
Shit.
“I—”
“I can’t believe you were a jerk to me just because you overheard me talking about a bag I wanted to buy,” Libby says, sounding pissed. I move my gaze to her. “Seriously? That was your reasoning for treating me like crap? I work hard for everything I have. I have always worked hard for the things I want.” She shakes her head.
She looks like she’s going to toss her napkin on the table and sock me one.
“I told you I made a lot of assumptions about you.”
“Yeah.” She shakes her head, pulling her eyes from mine. “Obviously it showed I was so materialistic right? I mean, I was just dripping in designer clothes, right? I would have you know I have never paid full price for anything that I own. I always look for a bargain.”
“I still would like to know how you treated her,” Aiden says.
From my side, Wesley urges under his breath, “Abort! Abort!” I hear Mac start to giggle.
“Who wants dessert?” Katie asks suddenly, pushing back from the table. “I made a cake.”
“I’ll help you.” Libby starts to stand, but I tighten my hold on her thigh before she can get up.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you. I shouldn’t have assumed that you were like her. I should have taken the chance and gotten to know you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” she agrees, trying to get up once more.
“Don’t be pissed.”
“Family dinners are always so much fun,” Mac jokes.
Libby looks over my shoulder at her sister and glares.
“Princess,” I call, and Libby’s eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. Her jaw ticks. “I was an asshole. The way I treated you had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and where my head was at.” She lets out a huff, relaxes into her chair. “I’m sorry.” I lean over to kiss the side of her head. I hear her sigh.
“You’re lucky you’ve proven that you can be sweet,” she tells me, looking into my eyes. “Otherwise I would leave the table and let my dad have a few words with you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I so would.”
“Your dad’s scary,” I say just loud enough for her to hear.
She smiles. “He also owns more than one gun. You should probably remember that.” She pats my cheek. “Big ones and small ones.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and look over at her father. Would he really shoot me? I remember the glare he aimed at me. He would shoot me without thinking twice.
“What are you two talking about? Speak up so that the rest of us can hear you,” Miss Ina says. I start to laugh and watch Libby do the same.
“Nothing, Miss Ina,” Libby says right before she leans forward to kiss me and let me know that we’re okay.
“I have something I want to tell you,” Libby says.
I’m walking out of the bathroom, where I just got rid of the condom we used. I glance at the clock to see how much time we have before she needs to get ready for work and I need to take off for my run.
“What’s that?” I get back into bed, then drag her across the mattress to me and pull the blankets up and over us.
“It’s about the pizzeria,” she starts.
I feel every muscle in my body get tense, and my arms tighten around her. She’s brought up the pizzeria more than a few times over the last couple of weeks. And no matter how many times I’ve explained my feelings about the shop, I haven’t been able to deter her from mentioning it time and time again. I know she loves the place, and I know she hates the idea of someone else owning it. She probably wants to talk to me about reconsidering taking over from my parents.
“Libby . . .”
“Please hear me out,” she urges, turning toward me and resting her hands against my bare chest.
“I don’t want anything to do with the pizzeria,” I cut her off. “I also don’t want to talk about it,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“But—”
“But nothing, Princess,” I say, trying not to let my voice go up a register. I decide I finally need to make her try and understand. “You didn’t grow up with your parents working there seven days a week, twelve hours a day, Libby. You didn’t spend most of your weekends answering phones and taking orders. You didn’t have to fall asleep in the back room in a sleeping bag because the restaurant closed late on Friday and you had no choice but to stay with your parents. You didn’t miss out on time with your parents because they had a business to run. Your dad didn’t miss your games because he couldn’t find anyone to cover the shop for him. You haven’t watched that place slowly kill your father over the years.”
“I—”
“No.” I cut her off again. I toss back the blankets and get out of bed. “We’re not talking about it.” I walk toward the chair where my clothes are.
“Where are you going?” she asks, getting up on her knees, her eyes going wide with alarm.
“Gonna head out for a run,” I say, pulling on my sweats and a sweatshirt.
“But—”
“You need to get ready for work. You have to catch a cab soon.”
“We need to talk about the shop.” She grabs my hand, and I shake my head to deny her wish.
“We don’t need to talk about the shop. It’s not my problem anymore. It’s done, Libby. Someone else is buying it. Leave it be for once.”
“I—” she starts.
I cut her off with a swift kiss.
“I’ll see you in a couple days. I’ll call you tonight when I get a chance.” I turn and leave the room, ignoring her when she calls out to me again. Grabbing my key and cell phone off the counter in the kitchen, I shove both in my pocket before putting on my sneakers and leaving my apartment. Once I’m out of the building, I run until it feels like my legs are about to give out on me before heading home. When I let myself back into my apartment, Libby’s gone. I knew she would be, which is good. I didn’t want her to leave like that, leave with me upset, leave while she was probably upset also. I know that she feels different about the pizzeria than I do, but she didn’t grow up like I did. She just needs to let it go. Hopefully once the new owner takes over, we won’t have to talk about it ever again.
Chapter 15
I MUST BE DYING
LIBBY
“I’m looking for Libby.”
The male voice sounds familiar. I frown, trying to figure out where I know that voice from and why there is a man here looking for me at all.
Studying her expression, I let out a heavy breath. “My ex did a number on me, and I took it out on you,” I admit.
Her frown deepens.
“So you were mean to her because of your ex?” Miss Ina says. I look across the table at the older woman. “Are you crazy?” Fighting back a smile, I shake my head. “You must be if you let your past decide your future.”
“My ex was materialistic. Nothing I ever did for her seemed like enough. She only cared about money and designer labels. When I first met Libby, I overheard her talking about a handbag and—”
“You assumed that Libby was just like her.” Miss Ina cuts me off, her eyes turning squinty, her lip curling up in disgust.
“I think that he was scared because he knew in some way that if he gave Libby a chance that he would fall in love with her,” Fawn says.
My heart thumps hard because her words ring true. I’ve really fallen for Libby over these last few weeks, and I know I’m falling in love with her.
“Guys are always running away from love.”
“Not me,” Levi says.
She looks up at him and smiles wistfully. “No, not you. You ran right into love with me while I was the one trying to run away.”
“I still caught you,” he says. I watch him toy with the rings on her finger.
“How exactly were you a jerk to my girl?” Aiden asks, his voice a deep rumble.
My body goes tight.
Shit.
“I—”
“I can’t believe you were a jerk to me just because you overheard me talking about a bag I wanted to buy,” Libby says, sounding pissed. I move my gaze to her. “Seriously? That was your reasoning for treating me like crap? I work hard for everything I have. I have always worked hard for the things I want.” She shakes her head.
She looks like she’s going to toss her napkin on the table and sock me one.
“I told you I made a lot of assumptions about you.”
“Yeah.” She shakes her head, pulling her eyes from mine. “Obviously it showed I was so materialistic right? I mean, I was just dripping in designer clothes, right? I would have you know I have never paid full price for anything that I own. I always look for a bargain.”
“I still would like to know how you treated her,” Aiden says.
From my side, Wesley urges under his breath, “Abort! Abort!” I hear Mac start to giggle.
“Who wants dessert?” Katie asks suddenly, pushing back from the table. “I made a cake.”
“I’ll help you.” Libby starts to stand, but I tighten my hold on her thigh before she can get up.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you. I shouldn’t have assumed that you were like her. I should have taken the chance and gotten to know you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” she agrees, trying to get up once more.
“Don’t be pissed.”
“Family dinners are always so much fun,” Mac jokes.
Libby looks over my shoulder at her sister and glares.
“Princess,” I call, and Libby’s eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. Her jaw ticks. “I was an asshole. The way I treated you had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and where my head was at.” She lets out a huff, relaxes into her chair. “I’m sorry.” I lean over to kiss the side of her head. I hear her sigh.
“You’re lucky you’ve proven that you can be sweet,” she tells me, looking into my eyes. “Otherwise I would leave the table and let my dad have a few words with you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I so would.”
“Your dad’s scary,” I say just loud enough for her to hear.
She smiles. “He also owns more than one gun. You should probably remember that.” She pats my cheek. “Big ones and small ones.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and look over at her father. Would he really shoot me? I remember the glare he aimed at me. He would shoot me without thinking twice.
“What are you two talking about? Speak up so that the rest of us can hear you,” Miss Ina says. I start to laugh and watch Libby do the same.
“Nothing, Miss Ina,” Libby says right before she leans forward to kiss me and let me know that we’re okay.
“I have something I want to tell you,” Libby says.
I’m walking out of the bathroom, where I just got rid of the condom we used. I glance at the clock to see how much time we have before she needs to get ready for work and I need to take off for my run.
“What’s that?” I get back into bed, then drag her across the mattress to me and pull the blankets up and over us.
“It’s about the pizzeria,” she starts.
I feel every muscle in my body get tense, and my arms tighten around her. She’s brought up the pizzeria more than a few times over the last couple of weeks. And no matter how many times I’ve explained my feelings about the shop, I haven’t been able to deter her from mentioning it time and time again. I know she loves the place, and I know she hates the idea of someone else owning it. She probably wants to talk to me about reconsidering taking over from my parents.
“Libby . . .”
“Please hear me out,” she urges, turning toward me and resting her hands against my bare chest.
“I don’t want anything to do with the pizzeria,” I cut her off. “I also don’t want to talk about it,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“But—”
“But nothing, Princess,” I say, trying not to let my voice go up a register. I decide I finally need to make her try and understand. “You didn’t grow up with your parents working there seven days a week, twelve hours a day, Libby. You didn’t spend most of your weekends answering phones and taking orders. You didn’t have to fall asleep in the back room in a sleeping bag because the restaurant closed late on Friday and you had no choice but to stay with your parents. You didn’t miss out on time with your parents because they had a business to run. Your dad didn’t miss your games because he couldn’t find anyone to cover the shop for him. You haven’t watched that place slowly kill your father over the years.”
“I—”
“No.” I cut her off again. I toss back the blankets and get out of bed. “We’re not talking about it.” I walk toward the chair where my clothes are.
“Where are you going?” she asks, getting up on her knees, her eyes going wide with alarm.
“Gonna head out for a run,” I say, pulling on my sweats and a sweatshirt.
“But—”
“You need to get ready for work. You have to catch a cab soon.”
“We need to talk about the shop.” She grabs my hand, and I shake my head to deny her wish.
“We don’t need to talk about the shop. It’s not my problem anymore. It’s done, Libby. Someone else is buying it. Leave it be for once.”
“I—” she starts.
I cut her off with a swift kiss.
“I’ll see you in a couple days. I’ll call you tonight when I get a chance.” I turn and leave the room, ignoring her when she calls out to me again. Grabbing my key and cell phone off the counter in the kitchen, I shove both in my pocket before putting on my sneakers and leaving my apartment. Once I’m out of the building, I run until it feels like my legs are about to give out on me before heading home. When I let myself back into my apartment, Libby’s gone. I knew she would be, which is good. I didn’t want her to leave like that, leave with me upset, leave while she was probably upset also. I know that she feels different about the pizzeria than I do, but she didn’t grow up like I did. She just needs to let it go. Hopefully once the new owner takes over, we won’t have to talk about it ever again.
Chapter 15
I MUST BE DYING
LIBBY
“I’m looking for Libby.”
The male voice sounds familiar. I frown, trying to figure out where I know that voice from and why there is a man here looking for me at all.
