Slamming my car door, I glance around the street. The summer dusk casts a magical hue over the sky. My friend, Ella, is staying with her new boyfriend at his house. I don’t think she moved in permanently, but she told me she would explain tonight why she has to stay here instead of at her condo.
I wince at the flash of pain in my chest when I think about living with someone. A certain dark-eyed, muscular man of my dreams materializes in my mind. I chastise myself as I round the front of my car. We may run into each other around town at some point, given Nashville is big, but it isn’t that big. But more than likely, I won’t ever see him again.
I need to let it go. I need to let him go. I did what I needed to do.
I don’t know how Ian is doing, but I’m just as heartbroken today as I was that day.
Pressing the doorbell, I take a small step back and push my glasses back up the bridge of my nose. I usually prefer my contacts, but my eyes have been bothering me.
The door swings open, and my eyebrows jump in surprise.
No wonder Ella didn’t hesitate to stay here.
The man standing in front of me is a little over six feet, with buzzed hair, and a short, dark beard covering his jaw. His shoulders are broad, and his waist is narrow. He is, for lack of a better word, hot.
Not as hot as Ian.
I shake myself internally, and as I look him up and down one last time, I say, “You must be Jack.”
“That I am. Maggie, I presume?” he asks as he steps to the side to let me enter.
With a nod, I walk past him, wandering into the main area of the house. It’s nicely remodeled with high-end finishes and expensive-looking furniture. The kitchen, dining room, and living room are all open, but the way the furniture is laid out, each room still has a cozy, inviting feel.
“Gisella is changing. Would you like a glass of wine? Or water? I also have diet soda.”
“Wine would be great,” I reply with a smile.
I follow him into the kitchen. He grabs both bottles off the counter and puts one in the fridge. Pouring two glasses, he slides one to me. I take a sip, watching Jack over the rim of the glass as he puts what appears to be take-out Italian food in the oven.
I go to ask him some questions about himself when the doorbell rings again.
“Excuse me, I have to get that. One of my coworkers is coming over.”
When I give him a smile and a nod, he leaves me standing at his island. As I’m taking another sip of wine, heavy footsteps sound from behind me, and I turn to see if Jack’s coworker is as handsome as he is.
My eyes meet a familiar pair, and my heart stutters. Suddenly, my muscles ache with the effort I’m putting into not reacting the way my mind is telling me to.
I want to cry. I want to run to him and feel his arms around me again. I want to apologize and tell him I didn’t mean any of what I said and that he’s perfect just the way he is. I want to beg him to give me another chance.
But I don’t. I breathe out a shocked, “You!”
Ian stands up straighter and points at himself, then at me. “Me? What about you? What the hell are you doing here?”
There’s so much anger and hurt in his words that it shakes me from my spiral.I have to play the part, one more time.
I steel my voice and spit back, “I’m here to see Ella, you schmuck.” Every word tastes bitter in my mouth.
Movement to my right catches my eye. Ella’s standing in the hallway entrance, having come back from changing, her confused gaze shifting between me and Ian.
Jack speaks up as he gestures for us to hold on. “Wait, you two know each other?”
Ian scoffs before rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “It’s complicated.”
I huff out a humorless laugh and mumble, “Complicated. That’s one word for it.”
Ian puts his hands on his hips in frustration. “Well, what would you call it, Mags?”
Hearing him use my nickname has my stomach dipping. Not being able to take this interaction anymore without breaking down, I turn away from him and grab both my and Ella’s glasses of wine from the counter. I walk past Ella, willing my legs not to give out, and move into the living room. Pain weighs me down as I drop onto the couch.
