Oh God, it was too horrible to believe Nash would do something so heinous. Pretend he didn’t know who she was because he’d discovered she repulsed him?
Even if he’d lied through his teeth this morning, he’d never be able to pull off a ruse as enormous as that for long. He’d have to fake it not just with her but with virtually everyone who knew him.
Would anyone be so cruel as to fake amnesia because she disgusted them?
Slow your roll, Calla. You’re going off the deep end. It’s ridiculous to even consider Nash would go to these lengths to ditch you. Let go of Reed’s ugly words. They have no place here.
Greta tapped her on the shoulder with a knuckle. “If what you told us earlier, about your suspicions and Nash, is what you’re currently batting around in that head of yours, knock it off. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I do know that boy’s character. He’s no douchcanoe. If he said he didn’t know who you were, he didn’t know who you were.”
She’d confessed to them her deepest, most outrageous fear—about her birth defect. She’d told them all about Reed, and how much she’d idolized him for almost as long as she’d worked for him.
She’d never seen any of his flaws through her haze of worship and clouded judgment. He’d known about her prosthetic long before they were ever intimate, after she’d accidentally left the package she’d ordered online on top of her desk.
He’d known, and when she’d finally admitted her feelings for him and they were about to embark on a night she’d fantasized about for years, when he finally saw her naked, he’d looked away in disgust.
And even as strong as she was, as much as she’d wanted to walk out of his bedroom with her head held high, she’d turned tail and run, ashamed. Shortly after, she’d heard him on the phone with one of his buddies, describing how sickened he was by it, and then she’d left for good.
Daphne poked her then brushed Calla’s hair from her eyes. “Did you hear Greta? Knock it off. I’d believe a lot of things, but I’d never believe that of Nash. Denny? Maybe. But not Nash.”
Her panic subsided, but only a little. “Then what is going on?”
Greta’s shoulders sagged beneath her Mavericks jersey, her round face going grim. “I don’t know, but we can damn well find out. I sent a text to Winnie but no response just yet.”
“I think we should still send Mother Nature. She’ll natural disaster it out of him.”
“No!” both Greta and Calla shouted in unison.
Calla reached for her friend’s hand. “Please, Daphne. Don’t do anything until I can get a better grip on this, okay?”
“Then do that, Calla. Get a grip on it. But don’t go where you keep going in your head. I don’t know that I can ever believe Nash would be so cruel as to pretend not to know who you are just because—”
“I only have one breast!” she shouted in frustration, regretting it the moment the words shot from her mouth.
“And I have a fat ass,” Greta stated. “So the hell what?”
Yeah. Nash had said that, too.
The room grew quiet, with only the throb of her heart pounding in her ears.
A sharp knock on the door made everyone jump.
Ezra rose, hiking up his suspenders before he opened the door. As it swung open, Nash’s face appeared.
And then it disappeared, as Ezra knocked Nash to the ground with a solid right hook.
Chapter 7
Calla handed Nash a Ziploc bag full of ice to put on his jaw while Greta gave Ezra the stink eye to keep him from rising from his place on the couch.
Nash shook his head, the damp ends of his hair curling up just above his collar. “I don’t get it.”
“But you got it, boy! And you deserved it,” Ezra growled.
Nash winced as he ran a hand over his bruised jaw. “Ezra, I already apologized. I honestly don’t remember your granddaughter. You’ve known me all my life, why would I lie?”
“You should dang well be at the open end of my shotgun, you cow-dung slinger!” Her grandfather shook a gnarled finger at Nash before Greta blew her whistle, making both Calla and Ezra wince.
“Knock it off right now, Ezra Allen! You heard what the boy said.”
Oh yeah. They’d all heard what he’d said. He recognized everyone but Calla. He knew every single person in the room except for her.
Nash looked to her, his eyes blank and devoid of any emotion other than confusion, cutting her to the quick. “So you and I…we…last night?”
“That’s right, Twinkle Toes,” Daphne sneered, her eyes narrowed. “Right after you waltzed Calla on out of the VFW hall and back to your place. You made the whoopdedoo. A night this entire town’s been waiting on for three solid months. We even had a raffle going. Beer for a year at Skeeter’s.”
“And chicken wings,” Calla muttered, her cheeks turning bright pink. “Don’t forget the chicken wings. A bucket.”