Fourteen

      She was going to lose the bet. That was the safest thought in Anna’s head as she stood in her bedroom the night of the charity event staring at the dress that was laid across her bed.

      She was going to have to go there by herself. And thanks to the elaborate community theater production of their relationship everyone would know that they had broken up, since Chase wouldn’t be with her. She almost laughed.

      She was facing her fears all over the place, whether she wanted to or not.

      Facing fears and making choices.

      She wasn’t going to be with Chase at the gala tonight. Wasn’t going to win her money. But she had bought an incredibly slinky dress, and some more makeup. Including red lipstick. She had done all of that for him. Though in many ways it was for her, too. She had wanted that experience. To go, to prove that she was grown-up. To prove that she had transcended her upbringing and all of that.

      She frowned. Was she really considering dressing differently just because she wasn’t going to be with Chase?

      Screw that. He might have filleted her heart and cooked it like those hideous charred Brussels sprouts cafés tries to pass off as a fancy appetizer, but he wasn’t going to take his lessons from her. She had learned confidence. She had learned that she was stronger than she thought. She had learned that she was beautiful. And how to care. Like everything inside her had been opened up, for better or for worse. But she would never go back. No matter how bad it hurt, she wouldn’t go back.

      So she wouldn’t go back now, either.

      As she slipped the black dress over her curves, laboring over the makeup on her face and experimenting with the hairstyle she had seen online, she could only think how much harder it was to care about things. All of these things. It had been so much easier to embrace little pieces of herself. To play the part of another son for her father and throw herself into activities that made him proud, ignoring her femininity so that she never made him uncomfortable.

      All of these moments of effort came at a cost. Each minute invested revealing more and more of her needs. To be seen. To be approved of.

      But there were so many other reasons she had avoided this. Because this—she couldn’t help but think as she looked in the mirror—looked a lot like trying. It looked a lot like caring. That was scary. It was hard.

      Being rejected when you had given your best effort was so much worse than being rejected when you hadn’t tried at all.

      This whole being-a-woman thing—a whole woman who wanted to be with a man, who loved a man—it was hard. And it hurt.

      She looked at her reflection, her eyes widening. Thanks to the smoky eye shadow her green eyes glowed, her lips looking extra pouty with the dark red color on them. She looked like one of the old screen legends she loved so much. Very Elizabeth Taylor, really.

      This was her best effort. And yes, it was only a dress, and this was just looks, but it was symbolic.

      She was going to lay it all on the line, and maybe people would laugh. Because the tractor mechanic in a ball gown was too ridiculous for words. But she would take the risk. And she would take it alone.

      She picked up the little clutch purse that was sitting on her table. The kind of purse she’d always thought was impractical, because who wanted a bag you had to hold in your hand all night? But the salesperson at the department store had told her it went with her dress, and that altogether she looked flawless, and Anna had been in desperate need of flattery. So here she was with a clutch.

      It was impractical. But she did look great.

      Of course, Chase wouldn’t be there to see it. She felt her eyes starting to fill with tears and she blinked, doing her best to hold it all back. She was not going to smear her makeup. She had already put it all out there for him. She would be damned if she undid all this hard work for him, too.

      With that in mind, Anna got into her truck and drove herself to the ball.

      * * *

      “Hey, jackass,” Sam shouted from across the shop. “Are you going to finish with work anytime today?”

      Okay, so maybe Chase had thrown himself into work with a little more vehemence than was strictly necessary since Anna had walked out of his life.

      Anna. Anna had walked out of his life. Over something as stupid as love.

      If love was so stupid, it wouldn’t make your insides tremble like you were staring down a black bear.

      He ignored his snarky internal monologue. He had been doing a lot of that lately. So many arguments with himself as he pounded iron at the forge. That was, when he wasn’t arguing with Sam. Who was getting a little bit tired of him, all things considered.

      “Do I look like I’m finished?” he shouted back.

      “It’s nine o’clock at night.”

      “That’s amazing. When did you learn to tell time?”

      “I counted on my fingers,” Sam said, wandering deeper into the room. “So, are we just going to pretend that Anna didn’t run out of your house wearing only a T-shirt the other morning?”

      “I’m going to pretend that my older brother doesn’t Peeping Tom everything that happens in my house.”

      “We live on the same property. It’s bound to happen. I was on my way here when I saw her leaving. And you chasing after her. So I’m assuming you did the stupid thing.”

      “I told her that I couldn’t be in a relationship with her.” That was a lie. He had done so much more than that. He had torn both of their hearts out and stomped them into the ground. Because Sam was right, he was an idiot. But he had made a concerted effort to be a safe idiot.

      How’s that working for you?

      “Right. Why exactly?”

      “Look, the sage hermit thing is a little bit tired. You don’t have a social life, I don’t see you with a wife and children, so maybe you don’t hang out and lecture me.”

      “Isn’t tonight that thing?” Sam seemed undeterred by Chase’s rudeness.

      “What thing?”

      “The charity thing that you were so intent on