P.S. I Like You (27 page)

A car door slammed shut and then another. Cade and one of his friends were trading places, his friend taking over the
driving. Then Cade jogged my way and my heart picked up speed. Why was my heart such a traitor?

“Nice ride,” he said, patting the side of the minivan.

I wanted to ask him why he’d stopped writing. Why he was acting so normal when he’d left me in the cold for the last few days with not a single explanation.
I
was supposed to be the one to stop writing first. Not him.

“I don’t need to see you right now,” I said through gritted teeth. Cade was just another representation of something I wanted but couldn’t have. And I knew that now—I wanted him. We’d been exchanging notes for weeks and I’d fallen for that guy. The one in the letters. And sometimes even the one not in the letters. But I also knew that, just like my broken guitar, it would never work right. Cade had dated my best friend. We didn’t get along. He’d treated me badly. He hung with a completely different crowd. I was too odd for him. It was impossible.

“I just have one question,” Cade said, “and then I’ll leave you alone.”

I turned to face him. “What?” I snapped.

He held up both hands. “Whoa. No need to get angry with me.”

“I’m not.”
I like you and that makes me angry with myself.
“What?”

“My friends want man bracelets. How much does your mom sell them for? I need like four more.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course he’d make man bracelets cool. “I’ll ask her.” I pulled on the door handle but it was locked. I reached into my pocket but it was empty. Where had I put the keys? The trunk maybe?

“Hey,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Is it Lucas? I saw him leave.”

“Can you just not.”

“Not what?”

“Not be nice right now. I need you to be mean. It helps.”

“It helps with what?”

It helps me keep my feelings at bay.
“Go be with your friends, Cade. They’re waiting.”

He left, just like I wanted him to. Just like I didn’t want him to. But by the time I had opened the trunk, retrieved the keys, and unlocked the van door, he was back.

“They’re not waiting anymore. Oh … and I’ll need a ride home.”

We stood face-to-face by the driver’s side door, the largeness of the minivan blocking us from the view of the drive-through line. His phone rang, the ringtone a song from The Crooked Brookes, reminding me of our connection. He stopped the song after a few notes but didn’t answer it. I kept my mouth shut about knowing the song. It had only been a few notes anyway; maybe it wasn’t the song I thought it was.

“Three-hour truce?” he asked.

A sob crept up on me, getting out before I could stop it. “I’m not supposed to cry.”

“Why not?”

That was someone’s rule. I wasn’t even sure whose anymore. No crying before date three. It didn’t matter; we’d never have a date three. Rules were stupid anyway. They didn’t work.

He stepped forward, so close I could smell his breath-stealing scent again. “Talk to me, Lily.”

I leaned forward, put my forehead on his chest, and let myself be sad for a moment about what I couldn’t have that was standing right in front of me. I didn’t let my arms go around him like they wanted to. I didn’t let the rest of my body melt into him or even my cheek find its way against his soft cotton shirt. No, just my forehead and only a few tears.

“I’ll be done before they leave,” I promised.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me. “You have three hours. No need to rush.”

He pulled me closer, but my arms were still crossed over my chest, creating a very necessary barrier between us. I had once told him in a letter that hugs were magical, and they were. Hearing his breath in my ear, feeling his heart beat against me, the warmth of his body seeping into mine, sent tingles throughout my entire being. He’d bent down a little, his head filling in the space next to mine. I could swallow my objections for three hours. Live in this perfect moment for as
long as possible. I didn’t have to think about the past or Sasha or Isabel …

No, I had to think about Isabel. She was more important to me.

I pushed my arms against him and he released his hold. I wiped at my cheeks with my sleeves. “Thanks, but I’m good now.”

“Too late. They already left.”

I watched as his BMW pulled out of the parking lot and drove away. “You let your friends drive your car?”

“I’m not as attached to it as you might imagine.”

Because it was bought with his father’s money, I remembered him saying in one of the letters. I knew more about him than he realized.

“Okay. I’ll take you home.” I sniffled, embarrassed by the embrace we had just shared.

“Can we stop somewhere first?” He rounded the van and got in the passenger seat before I’d answered.

When I was in as well I asked, “Do I have a choice?”

“Truce. We called a truce.”

I managed a small smile. “All right. Where to?”

“I
do actually have to be home at some point tonight.”

“We’re almost there.”

We were listening to awful music on the radio. I couldn’t play the kind of music I would normally be listening to without giving everything away. It was dark and I had no idea where we were, but I knew we were at least twenty minutes from my house.

“Turn right here on seventh,” Cade instructed.

I turned and my guitar case in the back slid and hit the wall.

“What was that?” he asked.

“The dead body I keep back there.”

“Nice.” He pointed. “Okay, up ahead there on the left turn into the main drive.”

“Of the Land’s End? You’re taking me to a hotel? I’m not that kind of girl.”

He laughed. “I’m not taking you to the hotel … Well, I am taking you to the hotel, but not like that.”

He showed me where to park and I turned off the van.

“Now, follow my lead,” Cade whispered. “If anyone stops us, let me do the talking.”

“Is this illegal?”

“Not really.”

“That wasn’t a comforting answer.”

“Are you looking for comfort?”

I didn’t answer, but I followed him. He must’ve decided at some point that I was walking too slow because he reached back and took my hand, pulling me along. The feel of his hand made my heart skip.

We went through the front doors of the hotel. There was only one attendant at the front desk who was busy on the phone and didn’t even glance at us. We passed through multiple fancy rooms and halls until we were outside on the back end of the hotel.

Cade led me past a huge lit-up rock waterfall and up some stairs and down more paths until we came to a locked gate that said N
O
A
DMITTANCE
A
FTER
H
OURS
. There was a slot on top of the handle to slide a card in. I was guessing that it was most definitely after hours. He must’ve not realized it would be closed.

I waited for him to turn around and lead us somewhere else but he looked over his shoulder, then hopped the fence and opened the gate from the inside.

“So this is what you meant by ‘not really.’ ” I took a deep breath and walked through the gate. We followed a long cement path up a hill until we reached what I assumed was our destination—a large patio area that overlooked an enormous expanse of grass and trees and desert landscape.

“That’s the golf course,” Cade explained. “You can see it better during the day.”

I took in the view. “Do you come here often?”

“My stepdad takes me golfing sometimes. I hate to golf, but I love to come up here and sit.”

“Your stepdad’s last name is Jennings, yes? The insurance company?”

“Yes.”

“And your last name is Jennings?”

He rubbed his forehead. “Long story more about pissing off my dad than loving my stepdad so much that I took his last name.”

“Got it.” I wanted to ask him if his father had responded to his letter yet. If he’d ever asked his stepdad why he was so hard on him. But I didn’t. I leaned against the railing, looking out at the lights. It really was gorgeous up here.

There were some chairs and tables stacked along the edge of the patio and Cade got two chairs and brought them over to where I stood, setting one behind me. I sat down and he did as well.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. Why was he deciding now, when I had renewed my vow to walk away from him, when I’d reminded myself of his past with Isabel, to act more like the person in the letters?

“Why am I doing this … ” He twisted his bracelet around his wrist several times before holding up his fist. “This.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This bracelet. I wore it to make you angry and all it did was remind me of the conversation we had in my kitchen. The one where you spelled out my shortcomings so well. I realize that I deserve your disdain that I always thought was unjustified.”

Wow. I never thought I’d hear those words from Cade. “You didn’t … you don’t,” I said. “I was quick to assign you motives over the years. I’m good at that.”

He shrugged. “I deserved some of it. I always told myself I was just treating you how you treated me, but that was just an excuse. I haven’t been nice. Like at the fall festival. I knew you heard me talking to Mike about you, so I said what I did on purpose. I didn’t mean it. I was a jerk. Anyway, I guess what this bracelet made me realize is that I owe you an apology bracelet, too. I just don’t have a mom who forces me to do things like that.”

I held out my hand. “Where is it then?”

He laughed. “Metaphorically speaking.”

“I get a metaphorical apology bracelet and you get a real one? Totally unfair.” I dropped my hand with a smile.

“I know. Words aren’t quite as good as actions, are they?”

“I love words,” I said too quickly, thinking about his letters and song lyrics and books and everything else that words made possible. He raised an eyebrow. “Lucas, too,” I added.

His eyebrow came down. “What?”

“You were mean to me when I was talking to Lucas.”

“When?”

“At the football game. You dragged him away and probably told him not to bother.”

Cade shook his head several times. “No. I was trying to help. You had this frozen look on your face. I thought you were uncomfortable.”

“You were saving me?”

“I thought I was. Apparently not.”

“People don’t always need you to save them, you know.”

He looked down at his hands that he had clasped together. “But sometimes they do, right?”

When I didn’t answer he went on. “It’s okay to need help every once in a while … To ask for help.”

“I don’t need help. And I don’t need someone who helps people to make himself feel important.”

I cringed. Why did I say that? Why did I always lash out at him?

I knew why. Because I cared about him. And it was becoming obvious to me that he cared about everybody. He liked to help people, which was the real reason he was sitting in front of me right now. He thought he was helping when really he was making this so much harder for me.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You’re probably right,” he said with a sigh. “Half the reason I try to help people is to make myself feel … ” He trailed off and I had no idea how he was going to finish that sentence.

“Feel what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. So, why were you so upset earlier?”

I swallowed hard. “I lost something important to me. And then I found out Lucas and I aren’t really compatible.”
Mostly because I figured out I really like you but can’t have you.

“Compatible? You seem perfect for each other.”

“Is that an insult?” I normally wouldn’t take it as one, but coming from Cade, it felt like one.

“No. I just mean that he’s not mainstream. He’s a little different. You seem to like that.”

“I do.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“No problem. It was just bad timing, I guess. It’s not a big deal. Really.”

“A big enough deal to cry over.”

I had not been crying about Lucas. My guitar, yes. My never-to-be relationship with Cade, yes. But not Lucas. “It wasn’t about that. I’ll be fine.”

“But if you like someone enough you try to work on things.”

I laughed a little. “And there is the problem. We didn’t like each other enough.”

“Because you like someone else?”

My eyes locked on his. Had I somehow given that away? I needed to change the subject before the truth came out.

“What about you?” I asked quickly. “How have you been?”

“Since?”

“I don’t know. Since Thanksgiving when a rude person kicked you out of her house.”

He smiled. “Fine. Baseball keeps me busy.”

I heard the static of a walkie-talkie and stood up quickly. “Someone’s coming,” I whispered.

Cade didn’t look like he believed me at first but then there were voices coming up the walkway, talking about checking out the disturbance. Meaning us. We were the disturbance.

I jumped up and pulled Cade to the only door on the patio. We slipped inside what I thought would be a room that would lead us away from here but turned out to be a closet filled with more chairs. We wedged ourselves inside and Cade pulled the door closed behind us, instantly engulfing us in blackness.