Page 95 of One Last Rodeo

I place my right palm flat on the table. June settles across from me, suddenly quieter, deliberately avoiding my gaze as she twists the cap off the bottle of polish. The color isn’t the exact shade of red that Catalina used—but it’s close enough. It'll do the job of making me feel closer to her, even if for only a moment.

I know I sound like a sappy, lovesick fuck and, well... I am right now.

“You look miserable,” Noa says, as if that’s helpful. She was raised by Dawson, Micah, and Joel, so I can’t blame her for the insensitivity.

“I am.”

June doesn’t say anything across from me. She dips the brush, studies the chips and cracks on my nails, then shrugs before smoothing the new color over top them.

“Whatever you did,” she says casually as she reaches my middle finger and dips again, “I don’t think she’s going to forgive you. I've only known her for a little while, and I get the sense she holds grudges tightly to her chest for the men who've wronged her.”

I clear my throat, staring at my hand instead of the way her words tear a new hole in my heart. Yes, I knew this about Catalina.But I've apologized.

“She’ll forgive me.” I have to believe that she will. I’m not giving up on her. I’m not giving up on us.

June nods and keeps painting carefully. By the time she finishes, my whole hand is covered again shiny and red and important. It doesn’t fix the damage I caused. It doesn’t undo the way I broke something delicate between Catalina and me. But as I stare down at the fresh polish, I know one thing for certain—I’m going to keep trying anyway.

Noa hops off the bed and looks down at my hand. “You should send her a picture of it.”

June nods. “Definitely.”

I glance down at my hand then back at them then down again. "Yeah. Let’s do it."

June positions my hand on the table. It feels awkward. Then she takes a few snaps with her phone before staring at the screen and nodding.

"Okay. Looks good. I sent them to her."

I don't know what I was expecting from it, but even if she won't talk to me, at least she knows I'm thinking about her. June's phone vibrates instantly on the tabletop. I don't hide the way I'm trying to get a glance. She shields the screen from my view and then spins it around to show me and Noa as she bites down on the tip of her thumb.

"Sorry, Jensen..."

Catalina's response is a picture of her own hand. Red nail polish scrubbed clean. Bare. There are no words with the photo.

Fuck.

"I'm sure it's because of her surgery...," June adds, her voice soft and reassuring.

Noa nods. “Totally.”

Yeah, I'm sure that's what it is. And not because she's trying to remove my memory from her body.

June's phone vibrates again. She glances down at the screen, her eyes widening just a fraction.

"What?" I demand.

She hesitates. "I don't know if you want to see this. I don't know what it means, but it doesn't feel good."

"Show me."

She slowly turns the phone toward me. It’s another photo. A bottle of lotion. No words.

A grin spreads across my face. June and Noa stare at me like I've finally lost my mind.

She’s thinking about our time together in Tennessee. She's telling me to put lotion on my hands. She's reminding me to take care of myself.She still fucking cares,even if she refuses to admit it.

"He's losing it," Noa mutters before flopping back onto the bed.

Even if Catalina quits the series. Even if she takes my advice and moves back to San Jose permanently...