"We had a slight misunderstanding, but she'll come around. She has no one else anyway," she maliciously tittered.
I placed the photo back on the mantel. "I'm sorry, Lissa, but this was a mistake."
"What?" she screeched. "Why?"
I quickly buckled my belt back up. Why? There were a million reasons, one being the beautiful woman frozen in time in Lissa's lounge room. Another was realizing that I’d been kidding myself.
"What the fuck, Brian? Don't tell me you're fucking Maria, too?" she scoffed. "She won't mind. It's not the first guy we've both fucked."
Ignoring that comment, I handed her dress back, which she promptly scrunched up and threw aside with a scowl.
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Lissa. I hope you two can sort things out."
That wasn't true. Lissa didn't seem like the kind of friend a person wanted to retain. As I gave her half-naked body a sweeping glance, I felt my stomach roll again. I also knew that, selfishly, I didn't want this night to touch Maria.
At least, not until I'd spoken with her first.
Chapter 20
Maria
My brow furrowed in confusion as I re-read the message on my phone.
Brian:Hi, Maria. I know I have no right to ask this, but would you be open to meeting up with me for a chat? No pressure.
I snorted at that last sentence.No pressure?Brian had called me every day, sometimes more than once, for the past week. The first time it had happened, I’d stared at his number in bewilderment until the call finally stopped. I figured he’d butt dialed me, but it still left me in a sour mood all day. How dare he interrupt my peace, even if it wasn't intentional.
Then, the next day, my phone started up again. I turned the air blue with my cursing before silencing the call. Maybe he saw mynumber on his call log and wanted to apologize for disturbing me?
But by the third day, it became apparent. Brian was purposely trying to call me.
Still, I ignored it, and then I continued ignoring his subsequent calls. I knew I should've blocked him, but every time my finger hovered over the button, I never ended up doing it. A part of me had a sick curiosity: How long would he attempt to call me before he took the hint and backed off?
But now that I had his text on my phone, spelling out in black and white his intentions, I fucking wished I’d just blocked him.
No pressure?I couldn't feel more pressed. What the hell did he want? If he was calling to cash in on the free haircut I’d promised him, I swear I was going to shave the word “asshole” into his head.
We hadn't been in a relationship, so there were no personal items to exchange and no emotional relationship baggage to trudge through. Christ, we barely dated. I was more annoyed that I didn't get to try the honey crème brûlée at Da Vinci's Grove.
Did he want closure? Got plenty of that at The Homestead. An image of Brian and Lissa canoodling flashed in my mind, and in a fit of pettiness, I poked the middle finger at his text message before promptly deleting it.
Still, I didn't block him.
"Did you tell me about Brian?" Dr. Anna thumbed back through her papers.
"No. No, I never did. We ended our...dating before I saw you." I paused, hesitating on whether I should admit to the next bit.
Ever astute, she peered at me over her glasses. "Yes?" she drawled, crossing her legs.
"He was actually the catalyst that made me seek therapy," I confessed in a rush. My cheeks heated at the admission.
Dr. Anna's brows almost touched her bangs. "Are you willing to explain further?"
I took a deep breath before launching into my story. I talked about our first meeting and initial misunderstanding about his deceased wife. I spoke about his courting, the muffins he sent me, the continuous texts and phone calls, our date at the bistro, and the connection I felt with him. I even told her about our one and only kiss and how proud I felt about walking away, even though I had been sorely tempted to fall back into my usual habits.
My traitorous heart still fluttered when I recalled his soft mouth on mine and the feel of his hard body pressing me against my vehicle.
But of course, I was forced to recount our disastrous date at Da Vinci's. Having to relive those raw emotions—anger, embarrassment, confusion, disappointment—those annoying flutters were soon replaced by a burgeoning ember that engulfed those butterflies in a raging inferno. I talked about our final conversation, something that was forced upon me when Brian ambushed me at work. I repeated what I told him—that I was seeking a monogamous long-term relationship and, until then, was determined to remain celibate.
