“Yeah, that guy. Well, that’s him.”
Lunden waves her coat hanger in the air. “That’s him, and what did he have to say for himself?”
“Well, he keeps begging me to hear him out, but I don’t know. I can’t do that again. He hurt me. I made a fool of myself.”
“I think you should hear him out and then fuck him again. Just to get it out of your system.”
I tutt. “What? Lunden, be serious.”
“I am, have you seen him? Either you fuck him, or I will.”
The thought of her being with Beckett ignites a flame of jealousy inside of me.
She tilts her head to the side. “At least give the guy a blowjob?”
I look at her deadpan.
“Ken, I’m joking. I would never, but you absolutely should. It will give you some closure. You haven't even been on a date since him.” I let that reality sink in. I haven’t because I haven't been able to move on from that night for many reasons. I can’t. "You hear what happened? I let him fuck me, stick his tongue inside of me and then he just upped and left without a word. What must he think of me? I’m so embarrassed.”
“Girl, we all do stupid shit in the heat of the moment. It is what it is,” Lunden says casually.
“Lunden, I let him spit champagne in my mouth, who does that?” I hiss.
I shudder with embarrassment. I begged him to fuck me. No wonder he upped and left me.
“So what? I once let two guys take it in turns to eat a snicker's bar out of my cooch. We all do stupid shit.”
My eyebrows shoot up so far they feel like they are touching my hairline. “You let two guys do what?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “A story for another day. My point is, we all do things we are not proud of, but at least hear the guy out. The truth has to be better than the thoughts that run through your head, trying to work out why he left without a word.”
She’s right. I know she is. But my pride is getting in the way. I swore I would never let a man make me feel like shit after what Carson did to me.
“I’ll take your silence as confirmation that I’m right.”
I give her an eyeroll. “Maybe,” I mumble.
“The way I see it, Ken, you have two options. One, walk away and forever wonder, or two, hear him out and go from there. You have nothing to lose with option two but everything with option one. It’s your choice…”
It’s almost midnight before I step out onto the New York streets with Lunden to catch a cab home. The freezing air hits my cheeks and has me reaching for my gloves in my pockets.
“What a night. Shall we DoorDash a pizza so it’s there for when we get home?” I link my arm with Lunden as we walk down the sidewalk toward the row of waiting cabs.
"Ugh, yes, with extra pepperoni,” I say on a moan, my stomach grumbling at the thought of hot food.
Just as she opens the door to the cab, I hear my name being hollered. I look over my shoulder to see Beckett jogging up the sidewalk, now dressed in a long dark coat.
“Kennedy, wait, please.” I signal for Lunden to give me a minute.
“Beckett, I’m tired. I need to go home.”
“Have dinner with me,” he says, and it’s not a question.
“It’s almost midnight,” I reply.
“Then have breakfast with me.”
He takes my glove-covered hand, and even through the fabric I can feel the heat of his touch.
