Losing Romeo (5 page)

A cool breeze sent goose bumps across Rosaline’s skin. She wrapped her arms around herself and strode toward Dafne’s. Realizing Bryson hadn’t said they were cool or agreed to be her friend, she glanced back toward the barn. It was lit from within, but she couldn’t see him.

I’ll win him over eventually. At least that way, I won’t turn into one of those crazy people who talks to herself.

***

Bryson grabbed his cane from where it was hooked on the saddle and walked toward the open doors of the barn. He could just make out Rosaline’s outline as she neared Dafne’s. She stepped onto the porch, and the light next to the door glowed off her golden hair.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Sonny, the Palomino horse in the pen nearest the exit, looked at him. Bryson made his way over and scratched the horse’s neck. “I know she’s trouble, yet when she got mad…well, she looks really cute mad. She looks really cute all the time.”

Then there was riding with her, her arms wrapped around him, her warm body pressed against his back. It’d been a long time since he’d had any physical contact with another person. He and Winslow weren’t the huggy type, and he kept his distance when he went to town, always choosing to travel all the way to Fayetteville where he could avoid people he knew instead of making the shorter trip to Lowell.

He exhaled. “I don’t think it’s possible to be friends with a girl like that.” He glanced at Sonny, the creature he fed, brushed down, and even cleaned up after. “Then again, it’s pretty sad when your only friend is a horse.”

Chapter Seven

Bryson hesitated on the bottom step, eyes fixed on the open door of the office. He’d heard Dafne and Rosaline come in about thirty minutes ago. He couldn’t make out the words, but Rosaline was talking non-stop, Dafne answering with the occasional one-syllable remark. Man, the girl could talk.

He tugged at the bottom of his shirt. One of his few not-stained-with-grease T-shirts. He’d put it on because he was an idiot. An idiot who was now nervous to walk through his own house. Because of a girl. A really pretty girl he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since last night. He gripped his cane and started for the door.

“This is
sooo
boring.” That was definitely Rosaline. “How ‘bout I put a smiley face for the people who paid, and I put a frowny face for the businesses who haven’t. I can even send them a group email, suggesting they pray to Saint Matthew to help them sort out their money issues.”

“I think some of our clients would find that offensive,” Dafne said.

“I’m sorry I’m too holy for your customers.”

Bryson bit back a laugh, knocked on the open door, and stepped inside the office.

Rosaline had her feet up on the desk, one ankle crossed over the other, showing off her long legs. “Hey, Bryson. Did you come to join the Filing Party? There’s nothing that makes me feel more accomplished than helping out and learning about the trucking business.”

Dafne shot her a look, tilting her head and raising one eyebrow. “I thought you left the sarcasm at home.”

Rosaline snapped her fingers. “I knew I was forgetting to do something.”

Dafne heaved a sigh and then twisted her chair toward him. “Did you need something?”

His pulse quickened, and his throat went dry. “I thought maybe I could teach Rosaline how to ride a horse. But if you guys are busy…”

Rosaline swung her feet to the ground. “That would be great!” She glanced at Dafne. “You were just saying I should try to accept living here, and horse riding seems like the very thing to help me do that.”

Dafne’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “I don’t know…”

Bryson’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, internally groaning when Winslow’s name came up. “’Scuse me for a second.”

Winslow told him that he needed him to run an errand, and the excitement twisting Bryson’s gut faded. He’d been sure Dafne was going to say yes, and now he had to make a long boring drive for Winslow instead of hanging out with Rosaline. He hung up and turned back to the girls. “Sorry. Winslow needs me to go to Harrison. I guess there’s a wrecking yard that got in some hard-to-find part he needs.”

“I could go with you,” Rosaline said.

“Oh, I don’t think you’d want—”

Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened, giving him a look he took to mean
Shut the hell up and let me come
.

Bryson shook his hair from his eyes. “Sure. You can come with me. If you want to.”

Lifting her hands into prayer position, she turned to Dafne. “Please let me go.”

A crease formed between Dafne’s eyebrows. “All the way to Harrison? It’s a couple-hour drive which is—”

“Still the middle of nowhere where I don’t know anyone,” Rosaline said. “Come on. I just want to see more of this beautiful state. I bet there are tons of trees out there that I haven’t even seen yet—that’s simply unacceptable.”

He didn’t know how Dafne didn’t crack on the spot. He was ready to do whatever it took to get Rosaline her way, and she hadn’t even been aiming her charm at him.

She put her hand on his arm and stuck out her lower lip. “Think of poor Bryson. The long drive without anyone to talk to. Are you really going to put
him
through that just to punish
me
?”

Dafne rolled her eyes. “I think I’d be punishing him if I let you go with him.” She glanced at him. “You think you can deal with her for that long?”

Rosaline’s hand was still on his arm, causing his heart to beat a rapid irregular beat. “I think I can manage.”

***

Bryson pulled his truck onto the road and glanced at Rosaline. His small talk skills were rusty at best, and he suddenly felt self-conscious and nervous, with absolutely no idea what to say to her. She was quiet, too, which, from what he’d seen so far, was unusual.

She turned in her seat to face him, and he quickly looked toward the road, horrified she’d caught him staring. “I hope you don’t mind me coming with you,” she said. “I know I sorta pressured you into it, but I was seriously
dying
to get away, even if the only option was taking a long drive.”

“I don’t mind.” He almost added he was glad. But that would sound desperate. Or sappy.

Shit. I don’t know how to do this anymore.
His confidence had been shattered along with his knee, and he feared the damage was just as permanent. It had been so much easier yesterday, when he’d been semi-annoyed to come across her in the dark. Now that he was trying to find things to say, nothing was coming. And the few things that finally poked through all sounded stupid.

Rosaline ran a hand through her hair. It looked like it would feel silky. Probably smell great, too. “I don’t understand how you do it, day in and day out, living there with no one to talk to. My friends Sophie and Clara and I were always out doing something together. And if we weren’t, Clara and I were calling or texting, or, as you saw, instant messaging. I miss talking to her
so much
. She kept me sane, you know, and now the only people I get to talk to are Dafne, who’s almost always busy working or scolding me for saying the wrong thing, or my parents.”

Her eyes hardened, the muscles of her jaw tightening. “And I’m so pissed at them for shipping me away without even letting me explain that I don’t even
want
to talk to them. But if I don’t, they call me difficult and rebellious and there goes any shot of freedom ever.”

Yep. She definitely had the talking thing down. She turned her big brown eyes on him, looking at him like it was his turn.

He looked out at the endless stretch of highway. “I don’t have anyone I care to talk to much anymore. There was a time when…But now I’d rather stay at home and not deal with people.”

It wasn’t exactly true. He sometimes hated the hours of endless boredom.

“Why?” she asked, not missing a beat.

He was glad the scarred half of his face was away from her. He knew she’d seen it—it was impossible to miss—but she hadn’t asked about it. At least not asked him. Who knew what she’d heard about him already?

“If it’s because…” Her eyebrows drew together, like she wasn’t sure if she should finish.

He didn’t want her to say it, so he quickly said, “I don’t want to deal with the staring or whispers. Especially in Lowell, where all they do is gossip. It’s no one’s business.” It came out harsher than he’d meant it, his words loud in the cab of the truck.

Rosaline’s eyes widened. Then she twisted away and stared out the window.

Good job. Now she thinks you’re mean again. I should’ve never let her come. I knew a long drive with her was a bad idea.

A moment ago she’d been rattling on and on about her friends and her parents. He wanted her to talk about something. Anything to fill the awkward silence now pressing in on them.

“So, um, your friend. You said you don’t get to talk to her anymore. Do you wanna…?” Bryson dug his phone out of his pocket and extended it to her.

Her eyes lit up. “Really? I’m
dying
to call her. Dafne watches the phone like a hawk and her computer’s password protected. Once in the middle of the night I snuck out and tried to get on it, but I couldn’t get through. I tried until the computer threatened me.”

“Hmm. Password protection.” He gave her a pointed look. “I should look into that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. I might get desperate enough to break into your room again, risk of getting yelled at and all.” She took the phone from him and frowned at the screen. “I got so used to having my cell, I’m not sure I remember her number.”

She bit her lip as she dialed, looking so cute it was ridiculous, then held the phone up to her ear. The first part of the call was mostly high-pitched excited noises.

“At first it was awful, but now…” Rosaline glanced at him, a small smile curving her mouth. “Well, at least I finally have someone I can talk to once in a while. We’re sorta forced proximity bonding.”

Warmth spread through his chest. If his talking to her helped her, he’d talk to her every day.

“Yeah, the guy from the computer. His name’s Bryson, and he’s the nephew of Aunt Dafne’s boss.” There was a pause as she listened to whatever her friend was saying. “Girl, after what you told me, you know I’m not even thinking about that. What’s up with that situation anyway? Are he and Juliet still going strong?”

Her smile faded and sadness flickered through her eyes.

Oh, hell. She looks like she’s going to start crying, and I have no idea what to do if she does.

“He writes her poetry, too? I shouldn’t be surprised, but still, how did I not see through it? How much of it was just an act?” She listened to whatever her friend was saying, then nodded. “I know, I know. And I know he’s a jerk. I just…I really liked him, Clara. I thought he was different. I thought—I mean, I’m
here
because of him.”

Obviously she was talking about that Romeo guy her friend had been messaging her about. Nothing said I-don’t-consider-you-dateable-in-any-way like talking about another guy right in front of you.

“I guess I have to take the blame, too. Seriously, I’ve got the shittiest taste in guys.” Rosaline rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll say some Hail Marys later.” She cast him a sidelong glance. “Okay, I’m being a bad riding companion so I gotta go.” Pause. “Love you, too. I’ll try to call when I can, but check your email and have your IM up and running whenever you can.” She shot him a look. “Just make sure it’s me before writing too much.”

She hung up and handed the phone to him. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“Everything okay?”

She exhaled and ran a hand though her hair. “I’ll survive, I suppose.” She tucked her leg under her as she twisted to face him again. “You’re a guy…”

“Last I checked.”

“So why are guys such jerks? Why do you say things you don’t mean? And is it really just all about the chase? Do you ever actually care about a girl?”

“I’m guessing from those not-so-cryptic comments, you got burned. That, plus I saw quite a bit of the conversation with your friend.”

“It’s not just Romeo,” she said. “It’s been every guy I’ve ever liked. But yeah, Romeo burned me the worst. More like crushed every bit of faith I had left.” Her voice came out shaky, and she turned away. She traced a finger along the bottom of her window, back and forth, back and forth.

“It’s not like girls are any better,” he said, bad memories nearing the surface.

She peeled her gaze from the window and looked at him. Her eyes were glossy with tears, and his heart squeezed. He didn’t know why he hated seeing her so sad—he barely knew her.

“Damn. I was thinking switching teams would solve all my problems.” Her smile was weak, but it still brightened her face.

The temperature in the cab shot up, and he shifted in his seat, having a hard time focusing on the road. He needed something to get his mind off the switching-teams image in his head.
Okay, focus. What was she saying before that?

He cleared his throat. “So your parents sent you here to get you away from a boy. A boy who’d already moved on with some other girl.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you?”

“Sorry.”

“Actually, it wasn’t only—” She bolted upright, pointing at the green exit sign with restaurant logos. “Fast food! There are actual fast food restaurants with names I recognize here! Dafne’s on some organic, AKA, disgusting diet. Can we stop and get something? My treat. I’ll even shut up about all my problems, because I’m starting to sound all pathetic and whiney, and I swear, that’s not how I usually am.”

Bryson switched lanes, heading for the exit. “That’s another reason I avoid people. Too easy to get pulled into all the drama.”

Her face dropped.

It took him a second to realize she thought he was saying she was too much drama. Which she probably was. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, I get it,” she said, waving off his comment. “I’m sick of the drama, too. Burgers and fries, and then I’ll move on to the comedy portion of my routine. Tragedies get all the critical acclaim, but I prefer something that makes me smile.
Ooh
, I’ve got this impression of my English teacher, and I know you don’t know her, but it
kills
with the girls from my school.”

He slowed for the stoplight and shook his head. “I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

“That’s ‘cause you don’t get out much. And because I’m a kind of awesome that’s hard to find.” She said it jokingly, but he thought there was a lot of truth to it.