Jonah Mason was a dangerous, sensual, too-hot-for-his-own-good man, and if I didn’t know better, I would have dragged him to the bathroom right this second and had my way with him.
Instead, I sucked in a deep breath and raised an eyebrow. “You first.”
“I already did it,” he countered, surprising me. “Yesterday, actually.”
“But I thought—”
He shrugged. “There’s nothing there for me. What I want is right here.” Another thigh squeeze.
I scooted back on the bench, desperately needing some space. “So you think I should do the same thing? Delete my apps, and the universe will just produce a husband for me?”
“Are you that anxious to get married?” he asked, suddenly sounding offended.
“What? No. Not that. I’m not like desperate or whatever. I just... I just want to stop going on dates that lead to nothing. The constant disappointment and then start-from-the-beginning cycle that isn’t going anywhere. I’m not saying I want to get married tomorrow. But I would at the very least like to start working in that direction. I really am tired of first dates. But I’m also not sure I’m marriage material. I have too much going on at the bar and with my family and...” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. In my head? In my stubborn heart?
He held my gaze. “The right guy will be impressed by what you have going on, Eliza. Not deterred.”
His words were so sweet and felt so good. I so wanted to believe him. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m blown away by all you do. You don’t just run one of the best bar scenes in Durham. You somehow make it work with your idiot brothers. And you’re killing it. The right guy will see how hard you work, how much of yourself you put into your work, and how much your work means to you and stand in awe. You are smart, sexy, and successful. You’re a catch, Liza. Any guy would be lucky to call you his.”
Now my cheeks were flushed for an entirely different reason. How had Jonah not found someone yet? I was just his friend, and he’d somehow made me feel like the most amazing woman who ever lived. I laid my head down on his shoulder and finally allowed the space between us to disappear. “You’re the best. Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
His hand flexed against my leg again. But this time, it wasn’t so much a tender squeeze but a motion of restraint. “This is better,” he said in a low murmur.
“Better than what?”
“Everything else.”
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. God, this was the real reason my dating apps never worked out. It wasn’t because of the men on the Internet. It was because of this man in my real life.
How on earth was I supposed to find someone to fall in love with when I had a best friend like Jonah? He erased the need to find someone else entirely. And sure, I still had needs. Physical needs mostly. But he was this giant, wonderful presence in my life that made every other man on the planet seem small and less than.
But it was even more than that. At the basest level, I knew that at some point, if I ever got serious with another man, I would have to get less serious with Jonah. And that was something I was unwilling to do. That was why I knew he would have to find someone else first, and I would be the last single standing.
Because what other guy would be okay with his girlfriend like this? Head on Jonah’s shoulder, Jonah’s hand splayed across her thigh. We looked like a couple, even if we weren’t. And more than just our touching, we shared a soul-deep connection. We texted and called each other constantly. He was the person I was always in contact with and didn’t let a day go by without checking in.
How was I supposed to find someone else when my life revolved almost completely around Jonah?
More than that, how was I supposed to find someone else when Iwantedmy life to revolve entirely around Jonah?
We spent the rest of the night sipping Manhattans, laughing, and talking about everything. We had so much fun. And when the bar finally closed and we were forced to part ways, he walked me to my car and asked if I was okay to drive home.
“Yes,” I told him sincerely. “You?”
“Yes.” He hesitated a second and then said. “I can drive you though. It’s not a problem. I don’t mind.”
“Really, I’m fine. We had like one drink every hour. And I live three minutes from here.”
He lingered by my car. “You’re sure? I’m happy to take you home.”
I unlocked my door and pulled it open. Pushing him playfully on the shoulder, I said, “Go home and get some sleep. You have to work in the morning.”
“Oh, to have Mondays off,” he murmured, sounding a little sad.
I looked over at him, daring to meet his gaze. “Tonight was so much better with you in it. Thanks for crashing.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Tell Claire I’m sorry. You’re just... too hard to stay away from.”
