“Let me help,” he said, his fingers kneading my shoulders and massaging. I groaned at his touch. I’d missed him.

Would five thousand hold Alexander off?

“If—if you’re absolutely sure, I’ll take the money. I promise to pay you back as soon as we sell our house.” Add him to the list.

“I don’t care if you ever pay me back, Dovey.” He tipped my chin up and gazed into my eyes, and I blinked. Whoa.

He continued. “My bank opens at ten. I can grab the cash and then meet you at your house? We can pay them together.”

“I’ll take the cash, but you are not coming with me,” I said emphatically, feeling panicky. “This is all on me, okay? And I’m not changing my mind, so leave it be.”

He didn’t look happy. “Fine,” he muttered and pulled back out into the main road.

I stared out the window as we headed to the center of town, feeling off-kilter, needing some semblance of normal.

“What’s on the agenda tonight? Am I keeping you from a date?” I asked.

“No. I want you to give us a chance, Dovey.”

This already? “What do you mean?” I asked, knowing full well.

He flicked his eyes at me. “You and me, we click. You know I’m crazy, and you still like me, and I know my accent gets you hot.”

I popped him in the arm, and he laughed.

“Ouch. Why you’d do that?”

“Because we’re friends and anything else would ruin in.” I made my voice light.

“What are you afraid of with us, Dovey?”

“Is this a stipulation on your loan?” I said. “You wanna pay me for a date? Like a whore?”

His nose flared. “I’m not an arsehole, Dovey. And if you really believe that, then you’re a bitch. ”

Yeah.

“All I want is a chance. We’ve been faffing around the possibility, so don’t deny you haven’t thought about it.”

I twisted my lips, feeling like he was putting too much pressure on me, just after he’d offered me money and I’d accepted. The silence bloomed bigger and bigger between us, and I just wanted it to end. I wanted my Spider back.

When in doubt, deny.

“Let’s go eat somewhere,” I announced. “How about Italian?”

He sighed, but then grinned, his shoulders dipping as he turned to me. “Vespucci’s sound good?”

Vespucci’s had been my first date with Cuba. But he didn’t matter. “Sounds great.”

Fifteen minutes later, we walked in to a packed restaurant.

He clasped my hand on the way to our table, and I let it ride, anxious to see where it led and how it made me feel. I mean, we’d held hands lots of times, but this smacked of something deeper.

And so. The waitress took us to our seats. Right next to Cuba and Emma’s table.

I stopped mid-stride, causing Spider to bump into me. He quickly apologized, then slid his eyes over to where mine stared.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “Can we sit somewhere else?” he asked the hovering waitress.

She shrugged, looking around at the full tables. “It’s a Friday night. This is it.”

He turned to me. Letting me pick. “You wanna get out of here or stay?”

Cuba glanced up, a flicker of pleasure on his face as our eyes met. But when he saw my hand in Spider’s, he stiffened and glared.

“We’re staying,” I told Spider.

“I forgot you guys came here,” he murmured. “You sure?”

“Italian food trumps ex-boyfriends every time,” I muttered, sliding into the red vinyl booth.

The waitress stuck the menus under our noses and flounced off in her tailored black and white uniform. I studied the list of food, not seeing any of it really.

I tried to not look at them. I wasn’t successful.

And Cuba wasn’t either, because he stared at me way too long for it to be casual.

When Spider’s phone suddenly rang, he mouthed it was his father, and got up to take the call in the lobby. Leaving me alone.

I sneaked a glance at Cuba, not surprised to see he was making quick work of a filet. He was a big guy. Emma, who seemed unnaturally pale, ate plain pasta. Odd.

And because I couldn’t help myself, I tuned out the conversations to the left of me, focusing instead on Cuba and Emma’s seemingly intense discussion.

“…when did the doctor…” Cuba murmured, his voice going in and out.

“…ultrasound…only six weeks give or take…” she mumbled.

What? Ultrasound? But that would mean…no way.

“…tell parents tonight…” he said.

“…don’t leave me…” she sniffed, weepy-like.

Not what I expected. And confusing. But I wasn’t slow, and as I recalled the way they’d been whispering at school and combined it with the conversation here, I came to an inevitable, horrible conclusion.

I sank down in the booth, legs weak, arms like jelly, and my chest aching.

And no. Just no. This couldn’t be happening.

Why did I care?

Because it was final, the huge THE END for me and him.

And as that thought settled in, I felt paper-thin, like a small breeze could blow me away and rip me apart, spreading bits of me all over the place.

I leaned my head back against the booth and closed my eyes. How perfectly fitting to find out Emma was pregnant at this restaurant. And even though I didn’t want to remember the night he’d brought me here, it all came back…

He’d sat down with me at lunch the next day after I’d left his jacket on his Porsche, an expectant look on his face.

“What?” I’d snipped, trying to eat. Again. “You didn’t think I’d give in that easily did you? Guys give me their jackets all the time.”

He smirked. “Just enjoying the chase is all, Dovey. I like it.”

My patience evaporated, and I leaned over the table, invading his space this time. “Catch a clue. I am not interested. Capisce.”

He gave me a heavy-lidded look, “Ah, Italian. Which reminds me, there’s this restaurant called Vespucci’s. Would you like to go sometime?”

I stood. Too much. I wanted to say yes, and it frightened me. “Thank you but no.”

He followed me as I walked to class, and once again the entire female population watched us leave. And, I let him walk with me, his gait seeming to match mine. Spider was still in detention, so I didn’t have anyone else to keep me company.