It can’t be….
Christ, I need to get laid or something to get Blair out ofmy brain. I haven’t slept with anybody since she turned up here. Whenever I think about it, my stomach knots up. So I haven’t…despite Peyton blowing up my phone to the point where I’m debating changing my number. I couldn’t have been clearer with her from the start that our situation was casual—I don’t do relationships. But I guess my words bounced in one ear and right out the other, because even after I officially ended it, she didn’t back down. Ignoring her calls, leaving messages unread, and turning down advances at the bar hasn’t been enough of a hint, either.
But maybe I can get drunk enough for a one-night stand.
Whatever it’ll take to stop me from thinking about my high school girlfriend anytime I hear a woman’s laugh or see a flash of brown hair. So hung up on her presence in town, I’m booking doctor’s appointments for the first time in my adult life solely so I can see her, and I’m hearing her voice everywhere I go. It’s pathetic.
She’s engaged to somebody else. My soul can’t take another crushing blow from her. And yet my nights are filled with sweet dreams for the first time in ages, and there’s no stopping myself from adding “what ifs” to my days.
What if she became single again? What if there was a life someday in the future where we worked out? What if, in the meantime, I settled for being her friend?
Stepping out from under the shaded canopy outside the clinic, I hear that haunting laughter again. This time, I allow myself a hopeful glance, squinting to make out the people standing on the opposite end of the parking lot. Losing any control over my body, as if being pulled by the invisible string that’s always tethered me to her, I weave between vehicles.
“Morning, ladies.”
Blair spins on her heel at the sound of my voice, a crease forming between her brows. While she’s not giving me the warmest reception, her mom, Faye, immediately envelops me in a hug. Arms wrapped tight around my waist, her smallframe presses into me and I smile over at Blair, who rolls her eyes. I have a way with moms—they fucking love me.
“My boy,” Faye says excitedly, letting go of her grip to stand back and beam at me. “Oh, I was just telling Blair to invite you over for dinner.”
“Oh yeah?” I look over Faye’s shoulder at Blair, who’s animatedly mouthing the wordno.She makes ittoo easyto rile her up. “Sounds great—I’ll bring the wine. I seem to remember you drink white. At least, that’s what Blair used to steal from your liquor cabinet back in the day.”
Blair scoffs, but Faye blows her off with a grin, smacking me across the arm. “Oh, you cheeky little monkey. Yes, bring plenty of wine. Maybe plan to stay the night.”
“Ya know, that’s a good idea.” I tilt my head, stealing a glance toward Blair, trying to gauge whether she’s remembering all the nights I snuck into her bed as vividly as I am.
While I probably wouldn’t turn down a chance to sleep with her after all these years—even platonically—I don’t think the man who put a huge rock on her left hand would appreciate it. On impulse, my eyes travel the length of her arm to find her hand stuffed deep in her jacket pocket. I need the sight of her ring to remind me she’s not mine anymore and calm my rapid pulse.
“Okay, Mom,” Blair interrupts, placing her right hand on Faye’s shoulder.Shit. Of course it’s her right hand.“Can I have a minute alone with Denver?”
Faye gives my fingers a squeeze goodbye before opening the car’s passenger door and slipping in. And Blair’s mouth flies open at the same time the door slams shut. “Ignore all that. She just got confused, so you’re off the hook for dinner.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be off the hook. Your mom makes great lasagna.”
“Regardless, she’ll probably forget she invited you before the date even comes.” She blinks rapidly a few times; she’sfighting to keep her emotions in check. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
While I don’t normally hang around with the gossiping crowd in town—I’m too busy to loiter at Anette’s Bakery during the day, and I don’t stick around long enough to make small talk with most women I sleep with—I’ve heard about Faye’s diagnosis. I know that’s why Blair’s back in town.
Blair’s arms cross against her chest, moving too fast for me to catch if there’s a ring on her finger. Or maybe it’s that I get caught up in the way the movement pulls her black ribbed tank tight across her boobs and pushes them together slightly. They may not be massive but,fuck,there’s no way of stopping myself from taking a torturous glance. Whether she has a fiancé or not, I’m not sure I care. Anyway, I had her first—which should count for something, if you ask me.
I finally remember how to form words. “I’m sorry…about your mom.”
“It’s fine.” She gives a thin-lipped smile. “Anyway, we gotta head home.”
“Oh, I came over here to tell you I just had my X-rays done. This collarbone is feeling better than ever. Honestly, I think it healed stronger than it was before.” I lean against the trunk of her car and take in her irritated posture. Arms crossed, a scowl painted in the grooves between her eyebrows, and a sporadic twitching in her left eyelid. “Think you can sign that paper for me now?”
“That’s not how this works, and you know that.” She shakes her head at me. “I need toseethe results before I consider doing anything.”
“Great, when should I come by your office?”
“Call the office and make an appointment. I think there’s some availability next week.”
“Perfect. Then we can make a plan for family dinner, too. I’ve missed your mom’s lasagna.”
“You can keep missing it. Get Red to cook for you.” She turns, rich brown hair swishing over her shoulders—God,I hate to see her go, but Ilovewatching her leave. Blair’s leggings ride up her ass a bit, leaving me on the verge of panting like a fucking dog as she walks to her car door.
“Bye, Blair. See you soon!” I shout as she disappears from sight.
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