"Motherfucker," he murmured. "I'm gonna bite my fuckin' tongue off before noon."
Rob smiled at me and said, "My tongue is just fine."
He didn't check the boxes. He didn't want any emotional attachment or intimacy. But hell, he knew how to heat me up with the barest of touches, glances, words. "Thank you for that update."
Ben closed his eyes, pressed his fist to his mouth. "Time limit," he gritted out. "We need a fucking time limit on this experiment."
"Yes, please," Rob added.
I looked around the bakery, hoping to find an answer tucked in between the dough and yeast and sugar. I found none, only a gentle reminder in the form of chalkboard signs heralding the impending launch of the seasonal special strawberry-rhubarb glazed donut that summer was almost here. The strawberry season was obscenely short. Most of the local growers I knew managed only a two- or three-week harvest.
I could manage more than that.Right? Yeah.I needed more than that and…and I had this on lock.
"The summer," I said. "I'll give you two the summer."
I wasn't certain of many things but I knew this wasn't what my mother had in mind.
Chapter Seventeen
My dates—dates,plural, as there were now two of them—wasted no time. I'd barely shooed them out of the donut shop before the texts started hitting like rockets during The Blitz. I held my phone's screen up for Patrick and Andy's review but the two of them were too busy critiquing the flavor profiles of the remaining donuts to notice.
"Are you seeing this?" I prompted, my arm still suspended over the table.
"I love when you get all fired up about things," Andy mused. "It's almost as entertaining as when everyone BCCs me on emails to Patrick because they erroneously believe I don't know he's a tyrant. Better yet, they think I'm going to intervene on their behalf."
"It's more entertaining when I'm sitting there with you while those emails come in," Patrick said as he studied a raspberry-lime donut. "I love watching you smirk at your screen."
"And you get to watch me smirk at my screen because you've parked yourself at my desk and forgotten you have a desk of your own."
Patrick arched his brows up, shrugging as he bit into the donut. "And?"
"And you have all day, every day to love on each other whereas I've tripped into a universe where I'm somehow seeing two guys," I said, reaching for a paper napkin. I balled it up and reached for another. "Two of them. Two separate men. At once. How did I get two? Really, all I need is one. Just one."
"You had the opportunity to eliminate one of them," Patrick said.
"This isn't the proper spot for an elimination ceremony," I replied. "Additionally, my life is not a reality dating show."
"You don't want to eliminate either of them," Andy said. "I remember when Rob first matched with you on that app. You were hooked on him. Then you yelled at the cute firefighter that one night and you were hooked on him too. You don't want to eliminate either."
"I beg your pardon," Patrick said, shifting on the bench seat to face her. "Which cute firefighter?"
"I'm married." Andy wiggled her snowball-sized ring at him. "Not dead. There is a difference." Patrick grumbled something under his breath and went back to his donut. "And you, my dear," she said, pointing her iced tea at me. "You deserve this, Gigi. You've kissed all the frogs. Some toads too. Now you get your choice of, you know, non-amphibious creatures."
She was right about the frogs. And the toads. I'd given too many days to men who cared little for me. I'd settled for nothing and convinced myself it was everything. I'd smiled through the warning signs and turned a blind eye to unacceptable behavior. I'd excused the inexcusable—lies, cheating, even stealing—and told myself it was as good as I was going to get.
I'd made bad choices, and I'd allowed myself to stay in bad situations. It took a kidnapped dog and one hell of a talking-to from one of my very best friends—and then a relapse with another no-good man and another Come to Jesus talking-to—but I knew how to spot douchebags and fuckboys and assholes now. And I knew I deserved more than that.
It was a strange thing, being okay with myself. I was still getting used to it. Most days, I wasn't used to the fit and feel while others forgot I was wearing it at all.
"While you're thinking deep thoughts, I'm going to eat the last donut," Andy said.
"Are you going to share it with me?" Patrick asked. "I'd like you to share it with me."
Andy met his gaze and bit into the donut. "Only because you're cute," she said, handing the pastry to him.
Rather than watching them eyefuck each other over the food, I turned to my phone.
Ben: There's a cool place in Revere Beach. Hasn't been hit by hurricanes or hipsters. Good beer, good food. I think you'd dig it. Let's go. Tonight.
