Cassidy Lane (27 page)

She ran for
less than a block before her lower leg started hurting too much to continue.

Damn it!

She slowed to
a brisk walk and began pumping her arms, trying to outrace the feeling of despair she knew would inevitably catch up to her and crush the shell of indignation still protecting her. Right now she felt only anger toward Brandon, for what he’d done to her, for how he’d made her care so much about him.

For how he’d
made her believe he cared too.

How dare he?

Had this all
been a game to him? He’d had her on her heels early on, making a point to say he wasn’t a Boy Scout, then behaving like one when they were together, seeming smitten from afar yet not acting on it when he had the chance.

Inviting her to
Tahoe before they’d even had an official date.

Suggesting he’d like
to come visit her in New York.

Accepting her invitation
to her family’s holiday party.

He’d clearly dipped
his toe in the water, but something had stopped him. She tried to pinpoint when he’d begun to pull back.

Had he been
playing with her all along?

If that was
the case, he’d won. Handily.

How dare he?

She walked as
fast as she could, pumping her arms, breathing hard, doing her best to escape from what she knew was coming. But it was unavoidable. The anger was fleeting, and soon it turned inward, releasing a toxic insecurity into her psyche.

Then the real
pain hit, and she wanted to cry.

What did I
do wrong?

She thought of
their dinner date in Palo Alto, remembering how she’d peeked out the window as he approached the front door of her parents’ house, her body literally buzzing with anticipation at the prospect of finally being with him. Then, after all that buildup, all that flirting, all that chemistry, he hadn’t even tried to kiss her.

Why not?

Am I that
unattractive?

Am I that
unappealing?

Was that why
he’d kept his distance?

She pumped her
arms harder, increasing her pace.

Is there something
wrong with me?

She knew he
was consumed with his mother’s health, and rightfully so, but he was a
man
, for God’s sake. Men craved physical intimacy, no matter how they were feeling upstairs.

Yes, they’d shared
a passionate kiss that had left her dizzy, and there was no denying the heat it had sparked between them. But they weren’t sixteen anymore. From an adult perspective, Brandon had barely touched her.

She felt the
tears welling up and shook her head in a feeble attempt to keep them at bay. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to let a man hurt her like this again. After Dean she’d told herself her heart had had enough.

But her heart
had had other ideas.

And now it
was broken once more.

She pressed her
palms against her eyes, physically trying to hold back the tears, but it didn’t work. The salty drops began sliding down her cheeks, the wind quickly turning them cold and icy.

She coughed and
choked back a sob, then looked down to hide her face as two joggers ran by in the opposite direction.

Why doesn’t he
want me?

Why doesn’t anyone
ever want me?

She slowed her
pace and cried silently as she walked, aching at the loss of what could have been, wishing she’d never gone to that reunion, yet already missing Brandon so much her chest hurt.

Wishing he weren’t
hurting too, in his own way.

Wanting to help
him but wishing she didn’t.

Wondering if a
man like him could ever fall in love with her.

Wondering if it
would ever be her turn.

The tears streamed
down her face, but she kept walking.

And thinking.

And longing.

Eventually she stopped
crying. She looked up at the sky, which was nearly pitch black now, save for a few flickering stars. In her haste to leave her apartment, she hadn’t brought a watch and wondered what time it was. She had no idea how long she’d been in the park.

She felt empty
inside.

And cold.

It was time
to go back.

She wiped the
remaining tears from her face, then put her hands on her waist and stood still for a few moments, staring in the direction in which the sun had set.

Then she took
a step forward and slowly made her way home.

“Ms. Lane, a
package arrived for you while you were out.”

“Thanks, Carson.” Cassidy
approached the doorman, who was standing behind the lobby desk holding up a clipboard. She signed the delivery slip, and he handed over a small cardboard box. She squinted at the unfamiliar return address. Who could it be from? It had been a long time since she’d received a package that didn’t say Rio Media on it.

Once inside the
elevator, she pulled open the cardboard lid and removed a layer of bubble wrap. Underneath, gracefully swathed in more bubble wrap, was a small box.

An iconic blue
box.

The Tiffany cuff
links had arrived.

Chapter Twenty-One

“OH, JEEZ, I’M
so sorry to hear that. I was really rooting for you two.”

Cassidy leaned back
against the couch and closed her eyes. “Thanks, Patti. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t expect it to hurt this much.” She felt her fingers squeezing the phone.

“Don’t let it.
It’s not like he’s rejecting you.”

Cassidy opened her
eyes. “What are you talking about? Of course he is.”

“I don’t see
it that way.”

She sat up
straight. “He said he wanted to be
friends
, Patti.
Friends
. Even my mom knows what that means.”

“I think he’s
being sincere, Cassidy. You should cut the poor guy some slack. I mean, look what he’s dealing with.”

“You really think
that’s why he broke things off?”

“It doesn’t sound
like he broke things off. To me it sounds like he just put things on ice.”

“You really believe
that?”

“I really do.”

“Well, I don’t.
I knew I shouldn’t have invited him to our holiday dinner. I should have waited.”

“Stop it. There’s
no use beating yourself up about that now.”

“It was too
soon. I scared him and he bolted.”

“You’re being ridiculous.
And besides, people
do
plan things early over the holidays. That reminds me, I’ve got the date for the Jingle Jog: December twenty-third. Think you’ll be able to run by then?”

“I hope so.
If not, I’ll just meet you at the end.”

“I hope so
too, because otherwise Amy and I will probably be running by ourselves.” The Jingle Jog’s numbers had hovered around ten in the early days but had dwindled since.

“I’m putting it
on my calendar right now.” Cassidy reached for the pad of sticky notes on her coffee table and jotted down the date.

“Why don’t you
ask Brandon to run with us?”

Cassidy stifled a
cough. “Are you joking?”

“Why not? You
said he wants to be friends, and friends help friends get in shape, right?”

Despite being so
sad, Cassidy couldn’t help but laugh. “I just spent an hour crying my eyes out over the guy and now you want me to invite him to go
running
?”

“Yep. God knows
we could use the boost in attendance. It’s hard finding people willing to run around dressed like reindeer. And if he’s saying he needs you to be his friend, then be his friend.”

Cassidy pulled her
knees up to her chest. “The thing is, I
have
been a friend to him. I’ve been a really good friend to him.” She thought of all the conversations they’d had about his mom, his hectic work schedule, his kids. In a way, a friend was all she’d been. Or all she’d had the chance to be.

“I’m sure you
have. And I’m sure he knows that.”

Cassidy sighed and
rested her chin on top of her knees. “But I want to be
more
than just his friend, Patti. I’d be kidding myself to think otherwise.”

“I think it
will happen if you’re patient. You said he wanted to be ready for a relationship with you but isn’t, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why would he
bother to say something like that if it weren’t true?”

Cassidy bit her
lip. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly. I think
you should just take a deep breath and try not to be so upset about all of this. I don’t think it’s over yet.”

“You really don’t?”

“I really don’t.
But for the time being, I think you should let him focus on himself, and you should focus on yourself. He’ll reach out to you when he’s ready.”

“How do I
go about focusing on myself?”

“Come on, you
know the answer to that question.”

Cassidy glanced over
at her desk.

She
did
know.

She needed to
finish her novel.

Cassidy worked until
after eleven and surprisingly got a lot done. She was still sad, but Patti’s pep talk had almost erased the sting of rejection she’d felt earlier, and she was no longer wallowing in self-doubt. When she was finally done for the night, she brushed her teeth and put on her pajamas, then picked up her phone and returned Brandon’s last text, which he’d sent hours earlier.

Hi, Brandon, I’ve had some time to think about what you said and realize I may have overreacted because I tend to associate the word
friend
with
not interested
. But I know this is about more than that. You mean too much to me now for me to bail when you might need me the most, so I’m not going anywhere. If you need a friend, I’m here.

Within a minute
he replied.

Thank you so much for understanding. How about I reach out when things are a little better for me, and we’ll see where things go from there?

She typed a
quick text back before climbing into bed:

Sounds great.
☺

As she turned
off the light, she was proud of herself for putting his need for support and understanding above her own for self-preservation, because that’s what true friends did.

Or so she
hoped.