“Where’s the scratch?” he demands.
“There isn’t one.”
“What?” He jumps to his feet.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
His brows come together. “What for?”
“For not being upfront with you. For not trusting you. For treating you like you were a third wheel. For taking Chandler even though I thought you had a thing for her.” It’s the last one I am most apologetic over. It really didn’t matter that Davis didn’t love Chandler. The point was that I thought he liked her, thought Chandler was his girl, and I still pursued her.
“Nah, I’m the one who’s sorry.” He scruffs his toe in the dirt. “I don’t love Chandler, just like she doesn’t love me. I mean, like you do. I love her like a friend. A sister. The thing is…” He trails off and then looks away. He wants to tell me something and is afraid, I realize. Afraid of what I’ll think of him if he confesses. I stay still, making sure my face gives away nothing, especially not judgment. This is Davis, after all; there’s nothing he can tell me that is going to make me think bad of him. Well, almost nothing. Like if he admitted he had a thing for kids, that would be bad, but he’s not that type of guy. After a prolonged silence, he starts again. “I’ve never felt anything for a girl.”
“Okay.” So he’s gay? “I don’t care what side of the bed you get up on.”
He laughs, but it’s sort of hollow. “How about if I don’t get into bed at all?”
“I don’t know what that means, but you’re still the same person. Loyal as hell. Funny. Talented.”
Davis laughs. “Damn. Sounds like you have a crush on me.”
I don’t laugh. He stops and then exhales heavily. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t like girls. I don’t like guys. All I like is football. I knew Chandler didn’t like me as a boyfriend, but I told myself she’d be my fail safe.”
“I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s not like I felt anything for anyone but Chandler. Maybe you haven’t met your match or maybe your match is a football. It doesn’t change who you are or what I think of you.” I toss him the keys. “If that’s all, get the hell out of here before I put a real dent on your bike.”
He catches the keys easily. “Why? I have tarts to eat.”
I shake my head. “Never say that again. As for why, I have to apologize to Chandler, and you don’t need to be here for that.”
“Because you’re going to have sex with her after?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Yeah. Because I’m going to have sex with her after.” I give him a chin nod and return inside. Chandler is sitting at the table, looking at her phone.
“More recipes?” I ask bending down over her, but she covers the screen before I can see what she was studying. Now I’m even more curious. “You buying me a present?”
“No. I’m looking at stuff on Pinterest, and if you see it, you’ll buy everything.” She wrinkles her nose. “I just want to browse in peace.”
I snort. She’s not wrong. “Is it a crime to want to spoil you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I won’t do it.”
She wrinkles her nose again. “Now you’re being too compliant.”
“I need you in a forgiving mood.”
“For what?”
I lower myself to my knees. “For not fighting for you. I should’ve been on my knees the moment Davis came in, and I’m sorry for it.”
She wraps her arms around my head and pulls me against her chest. “No. You wanted to preserve the friendship we all shared. That’s precious to me, too. And Davis always acted like we were a thing, so you probably felt guilty every time you touched me.”
“I still did it.”
“Yes, and I’m glad.” She presses a kiss on the top of my head.
“My dad is a cheater,” I blurt out. “I need you to know this. He’s a cheater, and I don’t want to be like him.”
“Baby, you are not like your dad.”
“I tried to hold out for so long because I didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, lied to people, and took what didn’t belong to me, but for you…” I swallow the rock in my throat. “For you, I would do anything to have you, even betray my best friend.”
“Oh, Berkley. You’re so good. A man like your dad would never question how he hurts people. He just does it. You’re on your knees for the second time in a day. I know you didn’t want to hurt Davis. You held me off for so long. I’m the one that seduced you, you know.”
“You didn’t—“
She shoves my face tighter against her chest, muffling my voice. “Yes. It was me. Give me some credit for being a sexy, irresistible woman”—she pauses dramatically—“or else.”