“Isn’t my next client coming in soon?” Hazel asked.

I looked at the small metal clock on the wall. “Eleven minutes. Trent, you don’t have an appointment anytime soon. Barring any walk-ins, it would be a good time to start the outline for that tat we talked about a while back.”

He looked at me while he cleaned, and then shook his head. “I can’t today, Cami.”

“Why not?” I asked.

Hazel strolled out, letting us be alone.

Trenton reached over and dug into the candy bowl sitting on the counter closest to him. He unwrapped a small sucker and popped it in his mouth. “Jason said he might come in this afternoon around now if he got out of practice on time.”

I frowned. “Just say you don’t want to, Trent. Don’t lie.” I walked off, and sat on the stool behind the front desk in a huff. Not ten minutes later, a truck pulled into the parking lot, and Jason Brazil breezed through the door. “Is Trent busy?” he asked.

I hunched over and sank back into my seat. My entire face felt like it had caught fire as the adrenaline from pure humiliation burned through my veins.

“You okay?” Brazil asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s back there.”

Day after day Trenton ignored me, but I didn’t dare confront him after that. It was particularly hurtful because his rapport with Hazel hadn’t changed, and he was more than chatty with Raegan when he came to the Red. He was deliberately giving me the cold shoulder, and I hated it.

The second Saturday in November, Trenton strolled into the Red alone and sat at his new favorite stool in front of Raegan. She was busy with her regular, Marty, but Trenton sat there patiently, not once looking over to me for service. My heart sank. The past weeks of being around Trenton had taught me an appreciation for the misery Kody went through every Wednesday through Sunday night since he and Raegan had broken up. I looked over to Kody, seeing him glance in Raegan’s direction with sad eyes. He did that dozens of times every night.

My regular, Baker, had a full, frosted mug, so I walked over to Raegan’s side of the bar, popped the top off Trenton’s favorite beer, and handed it to him.

He nodded once and then reached for it, but something came over me, and I yanked it away.

Trenton’s eyes popped up to meet mine for less than a second, a combination of shock and confusion on his face.

“Okay, Maddox. It’s been five weeks.”

“Five weeks of what?” Trenton asked.

“Miller Lite!” a guy called from behind Trenton. I acknowledged him with a nod, and then lowered my chin at Trenton, crossing my arms and letting his beer bottle sit snugly in the crook of my arm.

“Five weeks of pretending,” I said.

Trenton looked behind him on each side, and everywhere but at me. He shook his head a couple of times. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay. So you hate me.” The words felt like poison coming out of my mouth. “Want me to quit Skin Deep?”

“What?” he said, finally looking at me for the first time in weeks.

“I can do it if that’s what you need.”

“Why would you quit?” he asked.

“You answer my question, first.”

“What question?”

“Do you hate me?”

“Cami, I could never hate you. Even if I wanted to. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

His face screwed into disgust. He started to speak, and then changed his mind. He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

I pulled it from between his fingers and broke it in half.

“C’mon, Cami!”

“I’m sorry, okay? Can we at least talk about this?”

“No!” he said, getting more agitated by the second. “What’s the f**king point?”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You walked away from me, Cami.”

“I don’t deserve for you to talk to me, I get it. I’ll give Cal my notice tomorrow.”

Trenton’s face contorted. “That’s f**king stupid.”

“We’re both miserable. I don’t like it any more than you do, but what’s stupid is being around each other when we don’t have to be.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. I tried to choke back the lump that formed in my throat, but instead it just got bigger and tears began to form in my eyes.

He reached out for me. “Can I have my beer now?”

I laughed once, in disbelief. “You wanted a reaction when you kissed me and you got one.”

“If I’d known you were going to get on a flight to California and f**k someone else a few hours later, I might have reconsidered.”

“Do you really want to keep track of who’s f**ked who lately?” I sat his beer down and began to walk back to my station.

“I’m trying to handle this!”

I flipped around. “Well, you’re sucking at it!”

Raegan was staring at us, along with everyone else within shouting distance.

“You saw Travis on Halloween! He’s out of control over this girl! She left the morning after he bagged her the first time without telling him good-bye, and he trashed his f**king apartment! Trust me, I would love to bash something or someone, but I don’t have that luxury, Cami. I have to keep it together! I don’t need you judging me about what I do to keep my mind off of you!”

“Don’t make excuses. Especially not stupid ones, it’s just insulting.”

“You . . . I . . . f**king shit lord, Camille! I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“Why would I want that? You’re my best friend!” I felt a tear fall down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away.

“Because you’re back with Califucktard!”

“Back with him? If you would just talk to me, we could clear this up. We could—”

“Not that you’ve ever been with him,” he grumbled, swiping the bottle off the bar. He took a swig, muttering something under his breath.

“What?” I snapped.

“I said if you like being a backup plan, that’s fine with me!”

“Miller Lite, Cami!” the guy yelled again, this time less patient.

I glared at Trenton. “Backup plan? Are you f**king kidding me right now? All you deal in is backup plans! How many of those have you walked out of here with in the last month?”