Always on My Mind by Jill Shalvis Page B

“It’s Lucky Harbor.”
    He rose to his feet. “Bad shit can happen anywhere.”
    She met his gaze for one brief beat and then looked away. “What are you doing here, Jack?”
    “I figured as your ‘almost fiancé,’ I should see how you’re doing.”
    She winced but didn’t respond.
    “What the hell is this all about, Leah?”
    “You know what it’s about,” she said, hugging herself a little tighter.
    She always got defensive when she screwed up, and since she’d screwed up a lot, she had a lot of practice.
    “My mom has enough going on,” he said. “She doesn’t need to be lied to.”
    “Maybe not. But she does need to be happy to heal. And this made her happy. All week she’s been glowing.”
    He knew it was true, and a stab of guilt hit him that he hadn’t been able to make her happy without help.
    Leah didn’t say anything more, but she didn’t have to. Yeah, she’d gotten them into this mess, but he knew damn well it’d been out of the goodness of her heart. Jack knew that she thought she owed him for all those years ago, when he’d done his best to protect her, the chivalry having been deeply ingrained by his dad.
    But they were even.
    In the dark, Leah shivered, and that chivalry made him feel torn between enjoying the sight of her cold and wanting to wrap her up in his arms. “Where’s your towel?”
    “In the car.”
    He pulled off his sweatshirt and tugged it over her head.
    “I’ll get it wet,” she said.
    “It’ll dry.”
    “I’m—”
    “Just wear the damn sweatshirt, Leah.”
    There was an awkward silence while they stared at each other as behind her the water pounded the shore.
    “I realize that this is really hard for you,” she finally said, pulling on his sweatshirt. “Having everyone think you like me that way. You’ll just have to pretend.”
    He narrowed his eyes. Had that been sarcasm? Or…
    Hurt?
    “There was a time when I wouldn’t have had to pretend anything,” he said. “But you flaked out, remember? You pretended, and then you left.”
    She grimaced, swallowed hard, and looked away. “We were just kids.”
    Was that how it played in her head? Seriously? “Does it make you feel better?” he asked quietly. “To downplay what we were to each other?”
    She closed her eyes. “We were friends, Jack. Friends who’d made a quick, knee-jerk, stupid decision to become naked friends and sleep together.”
    “Yeah. And then one of the friends didn’t show,” he said, much more mildly than he felt.
    “It was a bad idea. I was leaving.”
    “Which you forgot to mention.”
    She dropped her head back and stared up at the sky. “I couldn’t stay, Jack.”
    He took in her expression, filled with memories, and nodded. “I know. But you should have told me you were going.”
    “You had another girl in your bed by the following weekend.”
    Had he? Hell, probably. But she wouldn’t have meant anything to him. Not like Leah had. His chest tightened at the memory of the hole she’d left in his life. He didn’t want to go through that again. “I missed you.”
    She said nothing, and he shook his head. Fuck it. He started to walk away, and then she spoke.
    “Brandi Metcalf.”
    He stopped. “What?”
    “Brandi Metcalf was the one in your bed by the next weekend.” She turned her head and glared at him. “Pretty, blond Brandi with the perfect boobs.” She emphasized this by cupping her hands out in front of her own breasts. “So don’t even try to tell me you missed me.”
    He shook his head. Apparently he wasn’t the only pissed-off one tonight. “How about the women I’m dating now?” he asked. “What am I supposed to tell them?”
    She hunched her shoulders a little bit, clearly getting irritated on top of defensive. “You’re the one who taught me how to dump someone, back in high school. You said”—she affected a lower voice, presumably imitating him—“just look him in the eyes, Leah, with your own gaze all carefully dialed in to