Apparently I had a soft spot for gu

Apparently I had a soft spot for guys who were dads in hats.
His steel-­colored gaze moved from me to Brandon. The dark look that crossed his face caused my chest to drop into my stomach. “Hey, Shriver, what’s up?”
Brandon grinned. “Nothing, man; what are you up to?”
Good question.
“I’m here to pick up Tess.” A tight smile appeared on his face. “You ready?”
What in the holy hell? My brows shot up. He was here to pick me up, after yesterday? After skipping music class? After kissing me and then apologizing for doing so and then dropping the daddy bomb and then insulting me? Did he live in an alternate universe where these things were acceptable?
“Tess?” he called, impatience ringing like a dinner bell in his tone.
Anger sunk its claws into me and I was more than tempted to turn and stalk off, but Brandon and Calla were staring at me with dual curious looks. Although I wanted to shove my middle finger so far in his face, the last thing I was going to do was cause a scene smack-­dab in the middle of the quad. Pitching a fit would draw too much attention and the only kind of attention I’d ever been okay with had been when I was onstage. Probably had a lot to do with all the scenes Jeremy had caused in my past.
Squeezing the strap on my bag, I turned to Calla and Brandon. “See you guys later.”
Brandon looked a little surprised as he waved good-­bye. Calla grinned like I just said yes to a marriage proposal. Ugh. Skin stretching tight, I crossed the pavilion and yanked open the passenger door and slammed it shut behind me. A pink box rested in his lap and if he handed it over to me, I’d be likely to throw the cupcake in his face.
The hue of his eyes deepened as he watched me buckle myself in. A beat passed and then he said, “Brandon Shriver?”
I pursed my lips as I leaned back against the seat. “I think I’m missing the beginning part of this conversation because I have no idea why you’re saying his name.”
His jaw tightened. “You were talking to him.”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “So was Calla. I really don’t even know him.”
Shifting the Jeep into drive, he focused ahead. “Didn’t seem that way to me. You do know he’s older than I am, right? Too old for you—­”
My spine straightened as I gaped at him. “Are you fucking ­serious?”
He blinked once and then narrowed his eyes. “You don’t need to cuss.”
“I’ll fucking cuss if I want to fucking cuss,” I snapped. “Fucker.”
His lips twitched, and my anger swelled. “But seriously, Brandon is . . . well, he’s been through a lot and you don’t need to get up close and personal with that kind of shit.”
“Well, thanks for the advice, Dad.” He shot me a look, and I returned it. “But I didn’t ask for any. And the last time I checked, I can talk to whoever I damn—­wait.” The stupid yet necessary muscle in my chest turned over. “Are you jealous?”
“What?” He snorted as he neared the parking lot in front of the dorms. “I’m not jealous or anything. Honestly, emotion has nothing to do with what I’m telling you. Brandon’s a good guy, but—­”
“You are fucking unbelievable!” I bounced in my seat, causing my bag to slip out of my lap. “Why are we even talking about ­Brandon?”
There was a pause. “There was an accident on Route 45 and I was coming from the farm, so there was no way I was going to make it to class,” he said, as if that explained everything. “Here’s the cupcake. It’s got Snickers in it—­”
“Fuck the cupcake!” I stared at him and he stared back like I suggested we should kick a baby into a street. My thoughts raced. “What in the hell does that have to do with any of this?”
“I didn’t skip class on purpose. I don’t want you to think that.” Which was exactly what I thought, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that now. He smoothed his hand over his cap, tugging it down farther. “So that’s why I wasn’t there and that’s why I’m here now. And it worked out, because you were waiting for me—­”
“I was not waiting for you.”
He glanced at me, lashes lowered. “Then you were talking to Brandon.”
“Oh my God.” I threw my hands up. “This is a stupid conversation and not what we need to be talking about.”
“What do we need to be talking about, Tess?” he asked as he pulled out onto the road, coming to a complete stop. Traffic was backed up from the four-­way stop.
“You know exactly what we need to be talking about. Yesterday—­”
“Yesterday was yesterday.” He leaned back, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “Things got out of hand. It happens.”
My brows flew up. “It happens? Often? Do you just walk around and happen to end up kissing girls? Do you slip and fall on girls’ mouths? If so, that’s got to be an awkward life to live.”
“Well . . .” The quirk to his lips was mischievous and teasing, but I was so not having it. He sighed. “Tess, you’re a beautiful girl and I’m a guy and—­”
“Oh, shut up.”
His eyes widened.
“Don’t even finish what will most likely be the lamest sentence in the history of lame sentences. You’re attracted to me.”
“I haven’t said that I wasn’t.” Traffic hadn’t moved an inch, but the muscle in his jaw was ticking like a speedometer.
“And that’s the problem, right? You are attracted to me. You do want me, but you’re going to deny it because of Jack?” Anger had my heart pounding and my mouth running, but the words that were forming deep inside me needed to be said. “Oh, that’s right. It’s because I’m only interested in getting laid.”
He smacked both hands onto the steering wheel. Seething with frustration and about half a million other emotions, I unclicked my seat belt. He stiffened. “Tess—­”
“Be quiet. Seriously. This isn’t cool. You don’t kiss me and then apologize. Twice now. That’s insulting. Nor do you get so drunk that you conveniently don’t remember what you say to me. ” I bent over, grabbing my backpack. I needed to get away from him before I knocked him upside the head or cried. Both would be equally mortifying and oddly satisfying. “You know I like you. You’ve known that for how long? Hell, you’ve even thrown that in my face. But you wanted to be friends and I get that you’re not a normal dude. You have a kid.”
“I’m not raising him—­”
“You’re still a father!” I shouted and when he leaned back, I worked to cool my temper. “Look, I’m trying to be cool with everything. But you can’t kiss me if we’re friends. You can’t say shit when I talk to other guys if we’re friends.”
Jase’s chest rose in a heavy breath. “You’re right.”
A stupid burn encased my throat. His agreement was the wrong thing to say. I don’t know why because it should’ve been right and it would be easier. Jase came with a crap load of baggage, but that burn was working its way up. I reached for the door handle. The thing called pride made it too hard to sit in that car and listen to what he had to say. “See you later.”
“Tess!” He reached for me, but I was already out of the Jeep, in the middle of the congested street. “Come on, don’t do this. We need—­”
“We don’t need anything. Peace out.” I slammed the door shut and walked away. The heaviness in my chest threatened to move up my throat and, if it did, it would get messy. And ugly. Like watching-­The-­Notebook kind of ugly.
But I kept walking, hurrying between the lanes. When I heard him call out my name, I ignored it. The god-­awful stone in my stomach weighed me down, but I gathered the shredded tatters of my dignity together.
Jase and his kisses and his horseback riding and his everything could go play in traffic. He was always the one walking away. It was now my turn.