Page 90 of Blue Line

“Good.” I smirk. “What’s this idea?”

He pulls at the back of his neck, fidgeting in his seat. What’s going on? Why is he nervous?

“When I was at the arena earlier, I ran by Sutton’s office to talk to her. She told me that the team is going to be down a photographer come the start of the season.” I raise my eyebrows. “I threw your name in the ring for the job. She told me to have you email her a link to your portfolio, but it sounded as if she was interested in you filling the role.”

“Weston,” I sputter. So much for his BS that my not having a job isn’t a big deal, and I should take my time to figure out what I want to do. “You crossed a line.”

“What? I was just trying to help.”

I throw my hands up. “By basically getting me a job. Because I can’t get one myself.”

He frowns. “No, Hadley. I recommended you. If you get this job, it’ll be because you deserve it.”

“I hate to break it to you, Weston Reynolds, but I’m only going to get this job because of you and my brother. If I was someone else off the street, it wouldn’t matter how good my portfolio was.”

“And you have a problem with me recommending you?”

“I do.” I cross my arms. “Last night, you told me I should take all the time I need to figure out what I want to do with my life, and it’s fine that I don’t have a job. Now here you are getting me one.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I—that wasn’t my intention.”

I get to my feet. “So me being an unemployed photographer is a problem for you. Got it.” I snatch my laptop off the coffee table and storm past him. “You’re no better than all of my exes who wanted me to change, Weston.”

“Hadley, please. I was trying to help.”

“I didn’t ask you to get me a job.” I stomp into the guest room, the room I’d made my own but haven’t slept in for a while, and slam the door behind me. I set my laptop on my dresser, then push the blankets down and climb into bed, hugging the stuffed Buc-ee to my chest and trying not to cry.

Here I thought he was different from all my exes. But, nope, he’s the same as all the other guys who tried to change me in some way, shape, or form. And I thought him breaking up with me would hurt the most. I rub a hand over my chest, trying to ease the ache that’s there.

I sob into my pillow. I knew our relationship was too good to be true. But I never dreamed that what would break us wouldn’t be that he didn’t want to be with me forever, it would be that he wanted me to change.

Chapter thirty-five

Wes

My alarm goes off way too early the next morning, but I’m FaceTiming with my cousin, Donna, at nine. I rub a hand down my face. When we planned it for nine, it didn’t seem too early, but today, today it does. I could reschedule, but I’ve been itching to have a face-to-face conversation with her. Hear more about her family, her kids—my third cousins.

At this point, I just want to feel a connection to this long-lost family of mine because we still haven’t moved past the stiff formal emails. And maybe it’s just me feeling that way. I hope it is. Guess we’ll find out today.

I stretch.

I slept like shit.

I didn’t realize how much I’d gotten used to sharing a bed with Hadley and how weird it would feel when she wasn’t in it until last night. I almost got up to go knock on her door to ask if we could talk and figure things out, but I didn’t. I decided it was best to give her a little bit of space. Maybe I was out of line. I don’t know. I only wanted to help.

After taking care of business in the bathroom, I head into the kitchen to make coffee, and my heart sinks when I spot her engagement ring sitting on the counter, a piece of paper under it. I peer at it warily but decide I need caffeine first.

A few minutes later, after having taken a few fortifying sips of coffee, I approach the ring and note on the counter. My heart breaks in two as I read her messy handwriting.

Weston,

After last night, I think it’s best we end our fake engagement. It was probably past time anyway. I can’t be your girlfriend. I thought I could, but I can’t. I can’t be what you want, what you deserve.

I’m sorry if I hurt you. It was never my intention for things to go past the one night at the party.

I hope one day you can forgive me. I’m going to stay at Holt’s until I figure out what’s next for me. I’ll ask him if he can arrange a time to come over and pack up all of my stuff.

I hope you find her one day—the woman you’re meant to love—because you deserve to.