Her cell phone rang and it was Tuesday’s ringtone. Kendall dove for it and answered, practically screaming, “Hello?” Why was she calling her so early?
“Okay, I have five minutes because he thinks I’m in the restroom, so just listen to me and answer my questions without wasting time.”
That was frightening and weird. Why had Tuesday ditched him to call her? What the hell was going on in that bar? “Okay.” Kendall bit her fingernail, caught herself doing it, and made a face.
“Why did you and Evan break up?”
That was not what she’d expected Tuesday to ask at all. Caught off guard, she answered truthfully. “Because he thought it was stupid that I wanted to be a driver. He laughed at me when I told him my dream.” It had been the ultimate betrayal to her at the time. It had hurt that he hadn’t respected her desires or believed she could achieve her goals.
“So you had a big fight about it?”
Kendall bit her lip instead of her nail. “Well . . . not exactly. He laughed and I changed the subject.”
“And then you broke up with him?”
“Yes.” Sort of. It might have been more like she had just stopped talking to him.
“And explained why you broke up with him?”
Fighting the urge to squirm, she said, “I don’t think I said that in so many words.”
“Did you say any words?”
Damn it. Why did hearing it spelled out like this suddenly make her feel so bad? It had been childish to dodge his calls. “Not really. Probably not. No. I think I sort of just stopped answering the phone.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I was eighteen!” she said in defense of her actions. “And I was hurt. He laughed at me!”
“And now ten years later you’re both still hurt and harboring resentments. This is stupid. You owe him an explanation. He owes you an explanation. Get your ass down to this wine bar and resolve this so you can both stop glaring at each other and get back to the real business of your careers.”
“What makes you think he even cares one little bit?” If he had cared, he wouldn’t have laughed at her.
“He has no clue why you broke up. It bothers him, it’s obvious. Give him an explanation and an apology and give him the opportunity to apologize to you. It’s time to move on. You said it yourself, you were eighteen, and you were clearly insecure. Hey, I get that, it’s normal at that age to have doubts. But you’re twenty-eight now and it’s time to deal with the past so you can tackle the future.”
“When did you become my therapist?”
“A friend is by definition an unpaid therapist. Trust me, both of you will thank me and sleep a lot better at night. This is called closure.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Don’t make me bring him to your apartment.”
Kendall balked. That would be awful because then she would be trapped there until he decided to leave. Not to mention that it was far too intimate.
She knew Tuesday wasn’t bluffing. Unlike her, Tuesday never bluffed. “Fine. I’ll meet you there.”
“Ten minutes, that’s all you get.”
“I still don’t think this is a good idea.”
“You’ll thank me later. By the way, how was he in bed?” Tuesday asked curiously.
Kendall didn’t say a word, suddenly thrust back in time to hot nights with the boy who had made her understand all the wonderful things her body was capable of.
“That good, huh?”
“That good,” she agreed.
Then she hung up the phone and went to throw on jeans that didn’t make her butt look too big and to run a brush through her hair.
EVAN couldn’t shake Tuesday. Every time he hinted that maybe it was time to call it a night, she launched into some huge and meandering story that had him nodding politely and wondering when this hell was going to end. She seemed like a nice enough woman, but there was no chemistry between them. Not to mention she had pressed him about Kendall and he had confided in her about their breakup, which was not hot for a first date.
He was heading from buzzed to full-on drunk.
He wanted to go home.
Shifting on his stool, he pushed his drink away and tried to focus on what Tuesday was saying.
“So then I did one of those simulation drives and I have to say I get the thrill you experience when you go around the track. Speed is sexy.”
What was sexy was what had just walked in the door. Evan’s foot slipped off the rung of the bar stool as he spotted Kendall standing in the doorway, scanning the room.
It had been a long time since he’d seen her in anything other than a sponsor’s golf shirt or a racing suit.
She looked better than he remembered, jeans hugging her in all the right places, a V-neck sweater displaying a fair amount of cle**age. Her hair was loose and flowing down her shoulders, over the white coat she was wearing. As she scanned the room, her fingers played with a necklace dangling above her br**sts.
The scary thing was Evan was just as attracted to her as he’d been all those years ago, and maybe it was the liquor, but he had a weird sort of longing taking up residence in his chest, like indigestion, uncomfortable and hopefully temporary.
It was a day that just got stranger and stranger, and he turned to the bartender. “Can I have a water please?” It was time to kill the buzz and go home before the day went from suckfest to total irreversible disaster.
If his brain had been moving a little quicker, he would have ducked out of the bar before Kendall laid eyes on him.
But it was already too late for that. Kendall had spotted them and was heading towards them. “Okay, awkward alert,” he told Tuesday in a low voice. “Kendall just showed up and she’s seen us. It’s too late to make a run for it.”
“Why would we make a run for it? I’m the one who invited her.”
Evan stared at her. “You invited your friend to join you on your date with her ex-boyfriend? That’s f**ked up.”
“You and Kendall clearly need to talk and clear the air. You’re both dragging around ten-year-old baggage and that’s just stupid.” She gave a cheerful wave to Kendall.
Evan wanted to crawl under the bar. Right after he strangled Tuesday Jones. It was one thing to make two-minute small talk with Kendall, it was another to be set up to talk about their past.
“This is none of your business,” he told Tuesday, completely irritated. “And I’m not going to—”