The barstool next to me scraped along the floor and I jumped, pulled out of my memory. Cade sat sideways on that barstool, like he’d been there all day. How long had I been staring out the window? His arm was wrist-up on the counter and he held the bracelet out for me.
I sighed and took the bracelet, wrapping it around his wrist. “It’s not hard, it’s just a basic clasp. You open it by pulling back this little lever and the circle end fits inside and you let go. The end.”
“You did that with two hands. How am I supposed to do that with one hand?”
“I don’t know. Use the counter to hold it steady.” I passed the bracelet back to him and watched for several minutes as he attempted many different ways to clasp a bracelet one-handed. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
“You think this is funny? Can you do it one-handed?”
“Yes.”
“Prove it.”
I draped the bracelet over my wrist, then attached the end.
“Okay. That looked easy. But this is your business, so you’re trained and stuff.”
I laughed. “This is not my business.”
“It’s the family business.”
“You make us sound like mobsters or something.”
He was back to trying to attach the ends on his wrist. He grunted in frustration after several more minutes.
“Give me your arm.” I stepped closer to him and after one second realized I had stepped between his knees that were wide on the barstool. It would seem awkward to step back now, like he affected me in some way, so I didn’t. Because he didn’t. But his musky scent sure was doing a number on my breathing.
I took the bracelet, one end in each hand and tried to attach it around his wrist. Only now my hands seemed shaky.
“You smell good,” he said softly.
I closed my eyes for a moment, my breath catching. “Just hold still.”
“I’m not the one moving.”
“Stop it.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re making this hard for me.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Why did he smell so amazing? That was the question I was going to ask when he was done with his.
“Yes.”
“Why do we fight so much?”
My mouth opened and shut in surprise. “We don’t. I mean … I just … our history isn’t so great.”
“I never understood why.”
“You gave me an awful nickname in the middle of a class I was already humiliated in.”
“I thought I was helping. You were getting pummeled by basketballs. I thought if I made a joke about it, it would help people laugh with you instead of at you.”
“It didn’t work.”
“I guess I can see that. So that’s it? I made up a nickname and got an enemy for life?”
“You do it to everyone,” I replied, looking right at him. “Humiliate them in the name of charity. Then you say rude comments and I’m never sure if you’re doing it because you are trying to be funny or if you don’t realize they’re rude, but they are. Just today you were mocking my hair.”
“What? I was not mocking your hair. You have great hair.”
That made me stutter for a moment. “Yeah, well, that’s, uh … Plus! And more importantly, you treated Isabel horribly.”
“I treated Isabel horribly? Me? What about how you treated her?”
I scowled. “Me? What did I do? She was my best friend. She’s still my best friend.”
“You were a huge flake. She’d call to set things up with you and you’d cancel last minute because you had to babysit and I had to watch her be disappointed all the time.”
I flinched at his depiction of me. “I have family obligations. She knows that.”
“And then you’d snap at me like I was the one leaving her alone in the middle of a restaurant or event.”
I glared at him. “No, you were the one leaving her alone even when you were standing right next to her. You were so checked out. You’d be on your phone or ignoring her in some other way.”
He grimaced. “I was in the middle of … things at that time.”
“Things? You never even told her what things, did you? You never told her anything about yourself. You don’t tell anything to anyone except—” I stopped myself, surprised I had gone that far. I’d almost given myself away.
He stared at me. “Except what?”
“Your girlfriend. I’m sure you tell Sasha everything.”
“Stop calling her that. She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Does she know that?”
His knee brushed against my hip and a jolt went through me. Why was I still standing this close? Probably because my hands were still holding both ends of the bracelet. I wasn’t sure if it was the anger coursing through me now or sheer determination, but I quickly clasped his bracelet and took a step back.
“Enjoy your apology man bracelet,” I snapped.
“I will love my man bracelet!”