“Thanks.” I sipped my drink. “Well, it turns out he now works for SSI.” How the hell had that happened? “Guess he’s not an accountant.” I resorted to my default behavior, hiding my pain behind sarcasm and jokes.
No way would I admit how much it hurt when he stood me up. And because it wasn’t like me to get attached, it didn’t surprise them when I displayed more anger than hurt. Only Emily & Meg understood how much he’d hurt me, not because I told them but because they were smart like that.
But what they didn’t know, was that I thought about Scott daily.
Nathan.His name is Nathan.
“No, he’s a Navy SEAL,” Cate said. “Well, he was before he did civilian contract work.”
Right. I remembered her mentioning that one of the new guys had a scar, though she left out he was a SEAL, while we were getting ready for Emily’s wedding.
In hindsight, I realized it should’ve been obvious Scott wasn’t an accountant. The muscles, the tats, the way he carried himself. But I’d had a few drinks before we met. I wasn’t drunk, but I’d had enough that my bullshit meter was off.
So what’s your excuse for the second night?
I wanted to believe him. Desperately. He was smoking hot, attentive, and he gave off more than a hint of after-hours bad-boy vibe. Like a hero from a romance novel—a good guy in a suit and tie during the day and a bad boy in leather and chains at night.
And while he wasn’t an alpha protector like my friends’ husbands, he displayed protective, gentlemanly behavior, and that was enough for me.
“He neglected to mention that,” I said, taking a huge sip of my less than satisfying drink.I could really use some liquor.
“He was undercover when you met him,” Cate said.
“Then he should’ve left me alone,” I barked, giving away my anger. “I’m sorry Cate, you didn’t deserve that.”
“Forgiven,” Cate answered while studying me. She could tell I was rattled, despite my best efforts to hide it. Who was I kidding? My friends didn’t need to be FBI profilers to see I wasn’t handling the situation well.
Needing the focus off of me, I said, “Moving on, Em, let’s talk about your news.” I was a little too cheerful as I got up to refreshmy drink. Pregnancy wasn’t a great subject for me either, but it was easier to deal with than talking about Nathan.
Fuck my life.
The guy I wanted had ghosted me.
The guy I didn’t want would be the father of my baby.
If I’m pregnant. I prayed I wasn’t.It has to be the stress. It just has to be.
Jobless and living with my grandmother wasn’t an ideal situation for bringing a child into the world.
How the hell would I survive the next few days? Without alcohol, no less.
I glared at the sangria I wanted as I filled my cup with the sangria I could have.
As if I didn’t have enough problems, Nathan blew back into my life like a fucking hurricane. The force of his presence rattled my senses and messed with my emotions.
If things didn’t change, I might be stress-induced period-free for the rest of my life.
Fucking Nathan Scott. There was no way I’d admit how hard I’d fallen. Falling for a guy I met in a bar in Vegas wasn’t something I did. Being hung up on a guy who ghosted me after two great nights spent talking and one shared lunch—and zero orgasms—didn’t just sound ridiculous; it was.
Maybe it’d sound less crazy if my life were a romance novel, but it wasn’t.
My life was a clusterfuck, a series of unfortunate events.
“You okay?” Emily asked, making me jump and bringing me back to the present.
“Yeah, I just can’t believe Casper works at SSI.”
“If it helps you feel any better, he looked shell-shocked when he came back into Grannie’s.”
