Page 30 of The Opposite of You


  I sucked in a steadying breath. This was a technique he’d taught me a long time ago. “Yeah.”

  Vann flipped the coin up in the air, the silver of the coin glinted against the steel ceiling of the food truck. Vann reached out to grab it, but I moved for it at the same time, suddenly afraid of what it would reveal. Our hands bumped into each other, causing both of us to miss.

  The clinking of the quarter against the floor resounded through the galley like a fire engine. Or at least that was how it felt. We both looked down.

  “Heads, Vera. Bianca.”

  Vann raised his eyes to meet mine that had nearly bugged out of my head. “Heads,” I confirmed.

  “So how do you really feel?”

  That was the trick of the coin toss. The answer always revealed your true feelings. If Bianca made me feel relieved, I would have known Bianca was the right answer. If Bianca had caused disappointment, then I would have known Killian was the right answer.

  “Vera?” Vann pushed. “What’s it going to be?”

  “Vera.”

  My answer died on my tongue when that familiar, grating voice called my name through the window. Vann and I both turned to look at the same time.

  Derrek stood in the window looking like he did the first time he’d visited. Only this time it wasn’t dark yet. Dusky evening swirled in the sky turning clouds to rosy pink and grayish purple. His features were clearer in the natural light, not exaggerated like before under the glare of Foodie’s spotlights, not twisted from my personal fear or agony.

  I was in no danger of going back to Derrek anymore. There was nothing that could tempt me from my new life. Even if things with Killian went badly, they wouldn’t go violently.

  They wouldn’t leave me a shell of myself, broken, bruised, beaten.

  And I would still be better off than when I was with Derrek. I’d tasted freedom and finally found healthy. I wasn’t willing to go back.

  I’d settled back in my body. My bones were mine again. My thoughts belonged only to me. My future was mine alone to decide.

  It was the best feeling in the entire world. Better than head chef offers and boyfriends that made me smile like a lunatic. Better than this career I loved so very much or the dreams I was just beginning to chase again.

  Knowing myself… being myself was better than anything else.

  It was the very best thing.

  But before I could say any of that out loud, Vann stepped to the window and clenched his fists, hammering them on the ledge. “Are you fucking kidding me, man? It was the wrong move to show up here.”

  “I just want to talk to her, Vann. Relax.”

  Vann’s spine turned to granite. He jabbed a finger in Derrek’s direction. “Don’t tell me to relax, asshole. I will annihilate you.”

  I hoped Derrek believed Vann because I did.

  Derrek held up his hands. “I’m not trying to start trouble. I would just like to talk to my girlfriend.”

  “Ex.”

  Both men turned to me. “What?” Derrek asked.

  “Ex-girlfriend. I’m your ex-girlfriend.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what I meant.”

  That wasn’t what he meant. He’d already started his manipulation game. I didn’t even think he noticed. It was such a part of who he was that he couldn’t stop it.

  When I didn’t make a move or open the conversation further, he pushed forward with his agenda. “Will you talk to me, Vera? I drove all the way here. I closed my kitchen for tonight. For you. I just want the chance to talk. That’s all.”

  I stared at him, taking in his worth with a glance. This man that I had once been so enamored with, that had wowed me with his talent, smooth compliments and good looks was so lacking now. So… unimpressive.

  A flush of embarrassment washed over me. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for him… gotten sucked into something so toxic with him.

  I surprised myself by saying, “Yes.”

  Vann swung to face me, his eyes bugging out of his head. “Vera, you can’t be serious.”

  “We can talk,” I told Derrek. “But that’s it.”

  Derrek glanced at Vann. “Can we go somewhere?”

  I pointed to the side of the truck. “We can go right there. I’m not closing my kitchen for you. Ever.”

  A sour look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly hid it behind penitent remorse. “Fine.”

  He stepped back, moving to the place where my customers usually stood around eating their orders. Orders I made for them. Out of my truck. From the safety and success of my new life.

  “Are you sure?” Vann asked in a low voice as I moved to walk past him.

  I held his gaze. “If he touches me at all, you have my permission to beat him to a bloody pulp.”

  Vann grinned at me. “You’re not going out there to make up with him?”

  “I’m going out there to tell him to leave me alone and never, ever come back.”

  My brother pressed his hands to the sides of my head, squeezing like only big brothers did and kissed my forehead. “Proud of you, Vere.”

  I ducked under his arm. “Even if it’s just like a finger, Vann, beat his ass.”

  Vann’s chuckle followed me out the door to where Derrek waited for me. I approached with wariness, but determination too. This needed to happen. He wasn’t going to leave me alone until he realized I was no longer scared of him. Till he understood that we were never, ever going to happen again.

  Derrek’s sneer reminded me of so many bad nights with him. And yet this time it couldn’t touch me. Even if it still turned my stomach. “Vann’s playing bodyguard now?”

  “Well, I need one when you’re around. So, yeah. I guess he is.”

  “Vera,” he groaned. “You’re not serious.”

  “Derrek, I realize that you are living in some delusional alternate reality where you’ve convinced yourself that you didn’t do anything wrong and that I’m at fault for all that happened between us. But the truth is, you’re a horrible person. The way you treated me is completely unacceptable. I am lucky to have gotten away from you, and that’s where I’m going to stay.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, probably restraining them from what he wanted to do. “What happened to you?” He leaned forward, getting in my face. “Did you join some kind of cult I don’t know about? You’re a completely different person.”

  I looked at the sky, hoping to find patience, but then my glare returned to Derrek’s face because even if I’d found myself, I still knew exactly who he was and I didn’t trust the slimy bastard. “The problem is not that I’m a different person, but that you’re the same person. I can’t be with you, Derrek. Frankly, I don’t want to be with you. Burn my things or give them to charity or whatever, but we are so over.”

  “Therapy,” he threw out. “Is that what you want? Couple’s therapy? Because, Vera, I can do that. You’re making me out to be some kind of monster, but you’re not perfect either. It’s not fair to pin this all on me.”

  I swallowed back the need to defend myself. It wasn’t easy. I wanted to scream at this man, this idiot that couldn’t see his own faults and wanted to make this about our relationship problems instead of the real issues.

  But I couldn’t get sucked into his manipulation game. If I engaged his rhetoric, then he got to dictate the direction of the conversation.

  And he was right. I wasn’t perfect. I might be justified. I might be right. I might have had every reason to flee. But I wasn’t perfect.

  “Derrek, I don’t want to go to couple’s therapy. I want you to acknowledge that it’s over between us.”

  “So that’s it?” His sneer came back, twisting his features into a terrifying snarl. “You’re just going to give up on us? Walk away after all the time and energy I put into making you happy? You’re going to turn your back on me after everything?”

  I nodded, surprised to find tears lurking in the corners of my eyes. “I am.”
/>
  “Vera,” he growled, low and menacing. “This is a big mistake.”

  The next words took the most amount of courage I had ever used. It was one thing to run away without facing him. It was one thing to have the men in my life chase him away when I couldn’t protect myself. But it was an entirely other thing to stand up for myself, to speak the threat that needed to be said. “And I’m filing a restraining order. Today. I told you in my text that I would if you bothered me again. You chose not to listen to my warning. So now I have no choice but to follow through.”

  He lunged forward, bringing us nose to nose. “Bullshit!” he yelled, snapping whatever restraint had been holding him back. “Bullshit, Vera! A restraining order? Are you fucking kidding me? What is wrong with you?”

  “Hey!” Vann rushed out of Foodie at the same time Killian darted across the street, shouting the same thing.

  Both men surrounded me, pulling me back from Derrek and stepping in between us. “Back off,” Killian yelled.

  “Get out of my way, Quinn,” Derrek barked. “This isn’t your business.”

  “Wrong.” Killian rolled his shoulders, and even under his chef coat, they were intimidating. “She’s absolutely my business. What she isn’t is yours. She wants nothing to do with you, man, so back the fuck off.”

  Vann stood at my side, his arm wrapped around my shoulders protectively. “Leave, Derrek, before we call the cops.”

  Derrek laughed, but it sounded slightly hysterical. “That’s ridiculous! I haven’t done anything wrong. We were just talking.”

  Killian had zero patience for his lies. “Leave,” he ordered. “Or I’m going to make this very public. And that would be very bad business.”

  Derrek ground his teeth together, the muscles in his jaw popping and flexing. He looked at me, ignoring the men at my sides. “This is really what you want? After all we’ve been through? This is how you want to end it?”

  I felt sick, irrationally guilty and overwhelmed at the same time. “Yes.” My voice was stronger than I felt. Despite my earlier bravado, this was hard as hell. “This is what I want, Derrek. It’s over between us. I’m filing the restraining order today. I don’t want to see you again.”

  “It’s done then,” he spat. “You don’t have to file a fucking restraining order. I get the message.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t going to argue this with him. He could leave and maybe I really would never see him again. But I wasn’t going to take the chance.

  He glared at me for another long moment, conveying hate and anger and maybe even something like surprise. But eventually, he turned around and walked back to his car. He didn’t look at me again. His tires ground against the pavement as he peeled away from the sidewalk, plunging into traffic like a bat out of hell.

  His silver Lexus disappeared in the crush of Saturday evening traffic, and then he was gone. Hopefully forever.

  My entire body slumped with relief. Vann caught me against him, squeezing my arm tight with encouragement.

  Killian turned around and practically snatched me from Vann’s arms. He crushed me against his chest, holding me tightly to him as if I’d just been through some traumatic life or death accident.

  The truth was, Derrek hadn’t even gotten physical. This last exchange of ours was mild compared to others. And yet it felt like a kick in the gut.

  Adrenaline slipped from my blood, leaving me weakened and shaky. I couldn’t get over the feeling that I’d just fought some major battle and won. From the outside, it might have seemed anticlimactic, but to me, to my heart, to my fragile spirit that had fought so hard to get away from Derrek, that confrontation had been years in the making.

  I’d gone through hell to get here. My soul had been razed and rebuilt. My dreams had been lost and then found again. I’d given myself up to someone who didn’t deserve me, and then I’d fought tooth and nail to have a life I did deserve—the happiness and relationship and man I deserved.

  Killian’s strong arms were like a brace around me, holding me up and reminding me that he was here for me, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  When my mind finally stopped spinning and my body evened out, I pulled back and looked at him, traced the lines of his face and the depths of his eyes. I saw the answer to the coin toss there. I felt the disappointment fresh and fierce as I remembered the coin showing Bianca on the floor.

  I didn’t want Bianca.

  And I didn’t want Foodie unless Killian was involved.

  I wanted this man. I wanted him more than I had even wanted culinary school or my own kitchen or the food truck that saved my life. I wanted him and a future with him and to work side by side with him for as long as I was able.

  He cradled my face in his hands, calloused palms scratching against my jawline. “I love you,” he whispered. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t ask me how I felt. He told me the words I needed to heal, to move on, to remember the life I wanted and the future I was willing to work so hard for.

  “Yes.”

  One side of his mouth lifted in that arrogant smile and his green eyes twinkled knowingly. “Yes to what?”

  “Yes to everything.”

  His smirk became a smile. “And what else?”

  I laughed, because seriously. This man. “And I love you.”

  His eyes warmed, and he looked down at me with so much adoration and awe that I felt it all the way to my bones. “Yes, to everything.” His thumb slid over my cheekbone. “And I love you.” When he kissed me, it wasn’t gentle or sweet, it was demanding and desperate. He kissed me with the promise of a future in front of us. He kissed me with the truth of who he was, the man he would always be, but also the man he would become because of me. And I kissed him back, promising those same things.

  When he pulled back, I missed him immediately. A secret smile still danced in the corners of his mouth, hidden by his beard unless you knew where to look. He held me close and said, “Now can we please go file that damn restraining order.”

  Laughing because I couldn’t contain my happiness, I looked across the street. “What about Lilou?”

  “They’re going to have to learn how to survive without me. They might as well start tonight.”

  “But there’s no chef!” Even through my happiness, I knew that Ezra Baptiste was not someone you made an enemy.

  “Eh,” Killian shrugged, knowing, confident, cocky as hell, “I was planning on recommending Wyatt for the position anyway. Ezra won’t notice.”

  “Ezra’s going to notice,” I protested.

  Killian gave me a mischievous side eye, “But what can he do about it?” While I sputtered for an answer, Killian grabbed my hand and pulled me toward Foodie. “Now let’s lock up and get to the police station. I have other plans tonight, so we’re going to need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

  “What other plans?”

  Vann stepped away, reminding us both he was still there. Covering his ears, he said, “I don’t want to know. For the love of God, wait until I’m gone.”

  Turning to my brother, I said, “Thanks for everything, Vann.”

  He grinned at me. “Looks like you finally hired some help, yeah?”

  Killian squeezed my hand. “It’s about time.”

  “I think I’ll make him work the window,” I told Vann, ignoring Killian’s smug satisfaction. “He might just be pretty enough to bring in some extra cash.”

  “As long as I get to control the salt, I don’t care where you put me,” Killian countered.

  I slapped his chest with the back of my hand, which he then caught and pressed against his heart. The message was there in that sweet, subtle gesture. I was in him, and he was in me. We were complete opposites, but we’d been made for each other.

  We said goodbye to Vann and locked up Foodie. Then together we went to the closest police station. Filing a restraining order wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. It took work and a lot of standing up for myself, which was hard since it was practically a new conc
ept for me.

  But I had Killian there with me, supporting me when I needed it and stepping in for me when I needed that too.

  At the end of this journey, I so wanted to be the tough girl. I wanted to kick ass and take names every damn day. But some things, I was learning, were personality based. Conflict wasn’t my thing. Making people do exactly what I wanted them to do was hard for me. And if I never got myself into a Derrek situation again, I could be okay with that.

  By the time we left the station, the sun had been down for a while. It was Saturday night, and we were both supposed to be working. This was the busiest night of the week. We had kitchens to run, food to cook, money to make.

  Instead, we climbed onto Killian’s motorcycle and ignored everything but each other.

  “Let’s go grab some dinner,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Like a real date?”

  He gave me his profile so I could see the smile and his beard and his gorgeous face. “Like a real date.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I stepped inside Foodie and quickly shut the door behind me. I wouldn’t need to open the windows to let cool air in today. It was frigid outside.

  Well, maybe not frigid, but the November breeze was biting as it chased the sunlight outside. I rubbed cold fingers together and wished for warmer days. I’d rather be sweaty and overheated than frozen.

  Or so I told myself now. Just wait until the middle of summer. I might feel differently then.

  I looked around the familiar space and brushed my fingers over the cool surfaces and smooth steel. It was going to be one of the last times I got to stand inside her and not just because winter was almost here.

  I’d sold her.

  I couldn’t believe it either.

  But after much thought and consideration and many, many business meetings, we’d decided that it was for the best.

  We were moving on from the food truck business and dipping our toes in the restaurant business. Or rather, plunging headfirst into the restaurant business.