Don’t engage.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before sticking your tongue down Tamara’s throat.”
Why am I engaging?
“Come on, that didn’t mean anything.”
“It meant something to me.” My glare cuts across the car, but the pain of that night is now a distant memory, thanks to Penn. Did I pine after Dylan for a while? Sure. Did he know it? Yes. But now, he can’t feel anything from me, except dislike. “What are you even doing, Dylan?” Could Penn have been right? Does he only chase what he can’t have? Or is this just about power, control, image?
“I’ve grown up, Jay Jay.”
“Don’t call me that.” The old nickname stings like lemon on a cut. When he opens his mouth, I cut him off with a sharp shake of my head. “You lost the right to call me that a long time ago.”
“Fair.” He exhales, but his voice carries a smug undertone. “But I want you to know, I’m not the same person I was. I’ve changed. One day I’m going to be President, and I’m going to need the right woman by my side.”
I nearly choke on my own tongue.
“Sloane is the right woman,” I point out, even though I don’t think that’s the case, because the woman can do so much better.
He ignores me and says, “Do you have any idea what my political position could do for your career?”
That’s what this is about? He wants to use me to help him get ahead? Guess he should have thought about that before the Tamara tongue incident. But wow, am I ever glad it happened. No way would I want to be married to a guy who could cheat so easily, and now, what he’s doing to Sloane, saying about her, is horrible.
“The places we could go.”
“Right now I just want to go back to the inn.” I consider calling Penn, or shooting him a text, but I think he’s already upset that I’m with Dylan. He doesn’t trust him any more than I do. Besides, I really don’t want to reiterate any part of this conversation with him. It would only upset him, and it’s Christmas. Soon enough he’ll be back in Boston, Dylan a distant memory, which means he doesn’t need to know about that horrible kiss either.
Honestly, it’s embarrassing to think Dylan only wants me because he wants to use me. Embarrassing to think, even back in high school he was using me, until the mayor’s daughter came along and he thought she would be a better fit for his career. I’d invested so much time into us, but he never loved or cared about me.
“I honestly don’t know what you’re doing with a guy like Penn. He’s nothing.” He snorts out a humorless laugh. “An enforcer who’s likely going to get sent back to the Grizzlies. A guy who only knows how to use brute force. I mean, he did punch Santa. Who does that?”
“He had good reason.”
“There’s no good reason to act like that in public. None. He’ll do it again. You’ll see.” A pause and then he continues, “At the end of the day, Jay, he’s a thug, and I’m the guy who can take you where you need to go. The guy who will always show up for you. The guy who’ll do right by you. Not Penn.”
“You’re engaged,” I snap. Engaged or not, he’ll never be the man Penn is. And while I could spend hours defending Penn to him, is it worth it? Dad always says, never wrestle with a pig in mud, you both get dirty, but the pig enjoys it.
“Can I make a confession?” he asks.
“No.”
“It’s about Sloane. She?—”
“I like Sloane,” I cut him off. “She’s actually really sweet, Dylan.” I shift, tugging my purse closer to my chest, a barrier between us.
“Yeah, sure, but she’s not you.” His voice is deceptively casual. A beat, and then, “She’s not educated…or even all that smart.”
Heat rises in my chest. “Don’t say things like that. She’s smart and doesn’t deserve that comment. Have you seen her social media? She’s fantastic.” It’s not a lie. She tricked me into believing she had the perfect life. But no matter how good she is, she could never convince me she’s with the perfect guy because she’s not.
“She might be good at social media.” He waves his hand like it negates her existence. “But she doesn’t have the finesse with the media—not the way that really counts. This—us—it would do wonders for your image.”
I stare straight ahead, forcing my hands to unclench. Is he really suggesting we get back together for my benefit, when really, this is about his image and what I can do for him.
“Forget about this little festival. That’s nothing. It’s meaningless compared to what I can give you.”
“The festival means a lot to everyone in town,” I argue, stubbornly.
“You know, Penn is never going to give you what I can.”