“Ladies, how’s it going?” He smiles, and Olivia grips the edge of the table when her knees wobble. Hunter turns to me with the same goofy grin on his face.Oh, please. How so many women fall for that look is beyond me. He’s cute butcome on.
“Let me grab my bag.” Shaking my head, I step into the break room, walking back into the store right when Hunter leans in and winks at Hannah. The gasp that stutters out of her prompts another eye roll from me as I march past the three of them, right out the door. Waiting outside while the breeze tangles my curls is a small price to pay.I’m not watching this foolishness.
Hunter finally joins me on the sidewalk, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he sidles up. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, referencing the scowl on my face.
“You need to leave those poor girls alone…” I turn away and walk down the street.
He follows in step, chuckling at my side. “I’m not doing anything.” Shrugging with that smart-ass smirk on his face, he glances at me. “All I did was ask them how school was going. It’s not my fault they were fawning all over me.”
“Oh,please. You knew exactly what you were doing. Those two are off-limits.” I huff, jamming my thumb into the crosswalk button. “They’re nice girls who don’t need your ass contributing to their villain origin stories.” He laughs again, but says nothing else about it. Probably because he knows I’m right.
We make it to Lunch-a-Bunch after a few blocks. The redbrick eatery is my favorite, and since it’s close to my job, I come here way too often. After a quick greeting, the host scurries off to prepare a table on the patio. Large picture windows bathe the café in crisp, natural light, the calming blue and green walls instantly setting me at ease. Hanging plants scattered among macramé tapestries give this place a free-spirited vibe I’ve always loved.
“How’s Avocado?”
Hunter snorts, shrugging a shoulder like they weren’t all over each other a few days ago. “Fine, I guess. Haven’t talked to her since the party.”
“So, she ghosted you?” I tease, trying to get a rise out of him. With a scrunch of my lips, I wait for his rebuttal, noticing the chiseled angles of his jawline. I’m not saying his face makes me swoon like it does the rookies at work, but I notice it.
“Do I look like I get ghosted?” He cocks his head to the side, green eyes narrowing at my jab. “Naw. She’s been blowin’ up my phone. I’m just busy.” Hunteristhe ghost. He’s probably left the scowl-faced lovely on read, forgetting she even exists, while leading the next girl through the door. We’re opposites in that way. I crave connection from the people I date, and he shies away from it. That’s why nothing could ever work between us. He’s an excellent friend—and we have fun together—but that’s where it stops…no matter how much I notice his face.
We follow the waiter out to the elongated patio, enclosed in a black steel lattice fence, with round bistro tables scattered from end to end. Green tablecloths flutter in the breeze as we’re led toward the back. Hunter pulls out my chair and waits for me to sit before going around to his seat. “And what about you?” he asks. “I noticed you didn’t bring Dr. Doofus to the party…”
“That’s because we broke up.” I bury my head in the vinyl menu to avoid looking at him.
Even after dating him for almost a year, Marcus never seemed to fully commit. I know doctors have busy schedules, but something else kept our relationship more casual than I would have liked. I couldn’t figure out what it was. The romantic in me tried to hold on to the hope that things would work out, but based on that damn email, I should have ended it first.
“I’m sorry, Ash,” he says. Looking up, I fully expect Hunter’s smug I-told-you-so face. Instead, my eyes are met with sympathy. He may be the biggest goofball around, but one thing Hunter gets right is being supportive. “He’s an idiot for breaking up with you.”
Crossing my arms, I squint at him. “And what makes you thinkhedumpedme? Maybe I’m the one who broke it off.”
“Well, did you?”
“Ugh! No…but I should have. Almost a year together, and I get a ‘We regret to inform you’ email.” I pull out my phone and scroll to the message before handing it over the table.
Hunter crushes his lips between his teeth as he reads, hardly containing his laughter. “I mean, he treated you like a colleague when you were together. Why would it be any different when he broke up with you?”
That’s exactly how I’d describe it. Marcus insisted I go to events when he needed an arm-candy ego boost. But whenever we were alone, he seemed uninterested in anything I had going on. Stifling control and stark indifference. I don’t know why I put up with it for so long.Maybe I’m the one who needed the ego boost.
Hunter levels me with his stare. Even though I know he’s speaking truth, I hate it. He saw this happening before I did.Again. He’s seen right through all the men I’ve dated, without fail, for years now. Shaking his head, he howls with laughter as he reads the email again. “Ballsy,” he says. “I’ll give him that.”
I snatch my phone back and shove it in my purse, my scalp prickling with sweat as I straighten in my chair. The anger bubbling under the surface when I look at him doesn’t surprise me. I wear defensiveness like a battle shield. Yeah, I’m frustrated with myself. But directing my irritation at him feels like it might help right now too. Him and his smug little laugh.
“You want me to say you were right, don’t you? That you called it, and he was an ass all along?”
“Naw, chill. I’m not tryna be right or make you feel bad. I just think you keep forgetting who holds the cards here. Guys get away with whatever they can. You keep picking the dusty ones who don’t know how to treat you well.”
That familiar pang of incompetency twists in my stomach.He sounds like Kayla. A glower pinches my face as my protective wall falls into place. “You think I’m doing this on purpose?”
Sitting forward, he looks right into my eyes until I soften my glare. “You deserve someone who wants your happiness as much as their own, Ash.” He holds my gaze until I surrender, shifting my focus to the condensation dripping down my peach lemonade. “And delete that email so you stop going back to it.”
Grumbling, I reach for my menu, the frustrated heat in my face fizzling away as his words echo in my mind. The way he can say exactly what I need to hear is infuriating sometimes—especially when I don’twantto hear it. But I have to admit, he’s never been wrong.
“How are you so good at spotting thedouchebaggeryin the guys I date?”
“Because I’m an asshole.” He smirks, and I snort at the truth in his statement. “Game recognizes game. We can spot each other a mile away.”
I try to distract myself with the lunch options in front of me, but my mind wanders to the first time he told me I deserved so much more. Sure, he was talking about a different guy, and it was years ago. But he used that same intense stare that managed to reach through my panic and settle into my psyche. He looked at me like he really saw me, past the bubbly, people-pleasing facade. We don’t talk about that night, but I’ll always remember how it felt to be seen by him.
