I’d rather combat a dozen hostile alien invasions than talk to Will right now. I think somewhere in my panic-scattered brain I have the idea that if I can just make it to my room and hide away in there, I’ll have escaped it. As if Will is somehow going to forget this revelation overnight. As if I don’t have to spend most of tomorrow in the same rooms as him.
But it doesn’t end up mattering that my strategy is totally illogical. Will catches up with me before I’ve even reached the steps leading to the pool deck.
“Ruby,” he says. I’ve never heard him sound so uncertain before. It wrenches at my heart. I make myself stop and turn around. Then I don’t know what to say.
He’s looking at me like he doesn’t recognize me.
I swallow hard. “Well, now you know.”
I’m aiming for nonchalance, but my voice comes out way too thin.
Will shakes his head as if trying to clear it. “So what Trevor said—Brad’s letter—”
“I didn’t write it for Brad.” I cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “I thought I was sticking it under your door. The guy I asked was obviously not a reliable source of information.”
“But . . . It said . . . Why the hell would you sign it as Deanna?”
“It was supposed to be cute,” I explain miserably. “A little inside joke. Because of my rant about Counselor Troi—the way you used to call back to that with me. It seemed like a good idea after a couple of back-to-back whiskey sours.”
“Troi,” Will repeats, and then the bewilderment in his expression fades a little. “Deanna Troi.”
“I would have used Troi instead,” I say, “but who signs a love letter with their last name?”
“Maybe the same kind of person who’d sign a love letter with a name that’s not even theirs in the first place?”
I throw my hands up in the air. “I thought you’d get the reference! I didn’t know it was going to end up with Brad.”
“Obviously.” His eyes catch mine again. “So . . . all those things you wrote . . .”
My arms tighten around me, but I manage to hold my gaze steady. “Yeah.”
He’s the one who looks away. “I had no idea. I really didn’t.”
“Obviously. I get it. I wasn’t really your type back then.”
Will looks stunned. “Ruby, you have always been my ‘type.’ I just didn’t—” He tries to explain. “We were friends. If I’m being honest, you were my closest friend. You weren’t just some girl, you were different.”
“Different from all the girls you banged and never called again?” I counter, not liking the way he’s talking. “I’m pretty sure all of them weren’t just some girl either.”
Will winces. “You’re right. But in my defense, I was young and regularly killing brain cells with more cheap beer than was wise, and my priorities were not exactly the same as they are now.” He pauses, and his tone turns sincere. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks quietly. “You must have realized I didn’t know.”
“No,” I gulp. “Up until the other night when Brad told his little story, all I knew was that I came by the next day, and my letter was pinned up on the bulletin board like a joke.”
Will blinks. “You couldn’t have thought that I would—”
“You were standing right there.” My throat still tightens at the memory. “You were reading it out loud, laughing at all the things I’d written. What else was I supposed to think?”
Will looks frustrated. “It was funny someone would have written about Brad that way, especially when he didn’t have a clue who it could be. I didn’t know you were going to overhear that. I didn’t know it was you who’d written it!” he exclaims. “You really believed I was capable of being that much of a jerk if I had known? You could have at least talked to me to find out what was going on.”
Is he really trying to make this all my fault? “It looked pretty cut and dried from where I was standing,” I say icily. “And in case you don’t remember, you were kind of a jerk to me when we first met. It’s not like you made much effort to stay friends. I never heard from you again. It seemed pretty clear you were done with me.”
“You blocked me on everything,” Will protests.
“So? You knew most of my class schedule. You knew where I lived. You could have tracked me down if you’d wanted to even ask me what was wrong.” My voice catches, and it all feels fresh and raw—like it was yesterday.
But Will just looks stubborn. “I wasn’t into stalking. And you were the one who cut me off. I figured our friendship couldn’t have been as close as I’d thought. I wasn’t going to go chasing after you.”
“That’s right,” I say, still feeling bitter. “The great Will Cassidy doesn’t chase anything. He just waits for women to fall into his lap.”
Will flinches. “That’s not fair.”
“You’re right,” I say, exhaling. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I spent a long time thinking that you hurt me. That you laughed at my feelings. It’s hard to just forget the past.”
“So what about the present?” Will asks, searching my face. “How do you feel about that?”
I pause. The million dollar question. I don’t even know where to begin.
“I’ve . . . been having a really good time, the last couple days,” I finally manage. “No, wait, excuse me—a great time. A wonderful time.”
A hint of a smile curves Will’s lips, but his eyes still look serious as they study my face. “So have I.”
And? I want to shout at him. Do you have anything to add to that? He just found out that I’ve already bared my heart to him once before. The least he could do is throw me a bone. Even if it’s just to confirm, And this is all it’s going to be.
“And finding out about the letter doesn’t change anything for you?” I say, as casually as I can manage.
He shrugs. “If it doesn’t for you, then I don’t see why it should for me.”
Maggie’s footsteps come tapping up the path behind us. “Hey, Ruby,” she said, a little hesitant. “Sorry to interrupt, but the van for the bachelorette party is here. We’re supposed to be heading out.”
I nod, relieved. “I better go,” I tell him.
“Will I see you later?” Will asks. “For . . . star-gazing?”
My chest feels tight, but I nod. A casual fling, that’s what I wanted—and that’s exactly what Will is delivering.
No less, and definitely not any more.
“Sure. Why not?”
He smiles. “Enjoy yourselves, ladies.”
“Oh, we will,” Maggie says with a smirk. She links her arm around mine to drag me away. “Trevor told Brooke he spilled the beans,” she mutters by my ear. “She’s really sorry. She only explained the situation to him so he could come up with an excuse to make sure Brad didn’t include that line in his speech.”
“It’s fine.” I swallow back the hurt. “It’s done now. I don’t want to think about it anymore. Let’s party!”