Teach You to Love Me (Lindon U #4)

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

Matt

T he girl sitting across from me is hot. Blond. Big boobs. Lean figure. Everything I usually love looking at all wrapped up in a tight dress with bright red, enticing lips.

Except she’s not Rachel.

She’s funny. Charming. But she’s not the brunette who I’ve been thinking about nonstop for the past month when I should be enjoying my summer away from school before I start my master’s program in finance.

“…another one?” she asks, smiling at me.

I blink. “What?”

Her smile slips. “I asked if you want to get another round.”

“Oh.” I glance down at her empty glass that used to have a dirty margarita in it. It’s not pink like the passionfruit kind that Rachel loves to drink. When did she finish drinking it? “We can if you want.”

Brittany, an avid football fan who I’m fairly certain doesn’t know anything about the sport at all, frowns. “You don’t want to be here.”

“What? No.” I wince when her frown deepens. “I mean, no, it’s not that. It’s been a long day. I’m a little out of it.”

And I can’t stop thinking about another girl, but I’m definitely not adding that part.

Her frown molds into a small smile. “I can think of a few ways to wake you up if you’re interested.”

Internally groaning at the suggestion that would normally make my dick twitch, I can’t help but notice that it does nothing. There’s no reaction. Not even a small nudge that says, Hey, let me out for a test drive. It’s been forever.

And it has. At least forever for me . I hooked up with one person since my little drunken tryst with Rachel, and it was because of alcohol, testosterone, and a hint of desperation. When I realized she was going out with people, I figured it was time to stop obsessing. Didn’t mean I was going to stop flirting, but I was determined not to be the type of guy who pined for someone who clearly didn’t think I was worth it.

Except I didn’t enjoy myself at all.

Not like I did with my former athletic adviser.

“As much as I want to,” I tell my date, hoping to soften the rejection, “I can’t. You’re gorgeous, but I just don’t think it’s going to happen tonight.”

Or any night, if I’m being honest.

The flirty expression on her face falls into one of irritation as she narrows her carefully painted eyes at me. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” I mumble more to myself than her.

If the guys ever find out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it. I’m the guy with a rep. A playboy with a don’t-give-a-shit attitude. They’re usually right.

For some reason, I can’t go through with this though. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, pulling my wallet out and sliding a couple of bills onto the table. “I can drive you home.”

She pushes her chair back, collecting her bag with a disgruntled look on her face that twists those luscious lips downward. “Don’t bother.”

I watch as she flattens out her dress and saunters off, weaving through the crowd of people and out the door.

Swiping a hand down my face, I let out a long-winded sigh that relieves the pressure in my lungs. “Good going, Clearwater,” I mumble to myself.

Sliding into my car in the parking lot, I pull out my phone and type out the name I have a million times on Facebook. It’s a little pathetic actually, but I find myself curious about what the girl currently a state away is doing with her summer. And, more importantly, who she’s doing it with.

Clicking on her name when I see her profile, my finger hovers over the “friend” button before scrolling down.

She was tagged in a few photos over the last few weeks. One with her sister Brie, who could be her clone in a slightly curvier body. One with a group of women that apparently were her sister’s bridal party on some girl’s trip to an amusement park. And…I frown, eye twitching when I see the picture of her sitting next to the same man from her sister’s wedding.

She didn’t tell me if she planned on enjoying her summer the way she told me to, but this might give me an answer.

Leaning back, I stare up at the ceiling of my car and think about what I want my summer to be like. I want to have fun. See my friends. Enjoy not being cooped up in classrooms or forced to do schoolwork. I don’t have to worry about conditioning in August now that I’m done with undergrad, and I don’t know how to feel about it.

A little sad.

A little relieved.

I have more time to myself before I begin graduate school, but I don’t know what to do with it.

Despite everything I want to accomplish this summer, all I can think about is what Rachel is up to in Pennsylvania. And when I think about that photo of her and Michael , I wish I’d taken Brittany up on her offer after all.

Deciding not to stew in my own pity, I find DJ’s name and type out a quick message, knowing he and Caleb are around.

Me: Fishtail at 7?

DJ: I’m down. Drinks on u

I roll my eyes.

Me: Fine, but you get three max

DJ: Make it 4 and call me pretty and you have a deal Clearwater

Me: Drag Caleb along. He could use a few stiff ones

After Caleb’s failed marriage proposal, he’s locked himself away and taken on ten times more work at his father’s store. Something is going on with him that he hasn’t shared, and I feel for him.

Hopefully, whatever it is can be fixed with a good buzz and a new girl to get under him so he can get over Raine.

*

The former running back of the Lindon Dragons is somber as we sit in the back of Bea’s Bakery. He hasn’t touched his coffee or pastries that the sweet older woman gave to him for free after giving him a hug and saying, “It’ll be okay.”

He’s barely spoken to anybody, trapped in his own thoughts. His own pain. “You should really eat something,” I tell him, gesturing to the plate of pastries with my chin.

His throat bobs. “Not hungry.”

“I know, man,” I say. How could he be? If it were only a broken heart he was dealing with, I could be a lot more helpful. But when he told me and the guys that his father was diagnosed with brain cancer…Shit. What could you do? “But if you don’t, your mom is going to worry about you.”

That seems to get his attention, his distant brown eyes lifting up to meet mine. “You’re right,” he finally murmurs, reaching for the croissant and ripping it apart.

He still doesn’t eat it after staring at the small piece in his hand, but it’s a step in the right direction.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” I ask for the fifth time in the past week since finding out the news. I feel helpless, and I hate it. Caleb is usually the voice of reason, the person we all go to when we need something. And he’ll drop everything to give the shirt off his back to anybody who needs it. It’s unfortunate that I can’t do the same for him.

Caleb shakes his head, dropping the food back onto the plate. “No. There’s nothing.”

Silently, I nod. What else can I do but be here for when he’s ready? I’m surprised he even agreed to come out at all since he’s been plastered to his father’s side. His mother had given me a hug and thanked me when I picked him up, and I could tell she was worried for the boy who’s clearly lost weight since things started going downhill.

We sit like that for another five minutes, other patrons coming and going to fill the quiet.

Saying that I’m sorry again won’t get us anywhere. I am sorry. For him. For his mother. For his father. They’re a tight-knit family—one that a lot of people in Lindon look up to. Nobody deserves what they’re dealing with, least of all them.

He lifts his wrist and checks his watch. “I should probably get going. I told my dad I’d take care of the store before going to register for one of my summer classes.”

My brows arch. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

He pushes back to stand. “It’s all I have right now, Matt.”

I frown at the low tone of his voice. And how can I argue? The guy’s dad has advanced cancer. His long-time girlfriend ended things. Who am I to say what he can or can’t do to keep his mind busy?

Sighing, I nod once in understanding. “Just try not to push yourself too far, man.”

He looks at me once, those eyes seeing me but not, before his chin dips in acknowledgment. Whether he’ll listen or not is up in the air. I get it. He wants a distraction, and the store and school are going to be exactly that.

Even if it’s not the best idea.

Caleb grabs my shoulder and squeezes once as he passes me. “I’ll try.”

I watch him walk out with a deeper frown settled onto my face. He’s like a ghost, floating around everybody and existing instead of living.

Bea shows up at my table only a minute or two later, her eyes going to the uneaten food. “We’ll get through to him eventually,” she tells me.

I stare at the door where he disappeared out of, hoping she’s right. “I wish there was something I could do.”

She pats my shoulder. “Be his friend. That’s all you can do. We’ll never know what it’s like to be in his shoes, but we can be there for him as he deals with it.”

When she walks away, there’s only one person I can think of who knows what having a sick parent is like. I may not be able to understand, but Rachel can.

And Caleb needs somebody to relate to now more than ever.