I laughed lightly. “Please. You’re thriving solo.”
She gave a half-smile. “Sure. Living the dream.” Then, more quietly, “It just feels like everyone’s coupling up and moving forward…and I’m still stuck.”
Britney raised a hand, mock-offended. “Um, rude? Did you forget about your favorite fellow single lady?”
Ariadne snorted. “You make single look like a power move, Brit. I make it look accidental.”
“I’ve dodged at least three red flags this month alone.” Britney sighed. “I think I’m growing.”
“Meanwhile,” Ariadne muttered, “I downloaded a dating app, panicked when someone messaged me, and deleted it five minutes later.”
“You can always try again later,” Macey said encouragingly. I didn’t miss the frequent concerned looks she shot in my direction.
I pushed my empty drink forward and stood. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. Xavier made us dinner, so I’m heading to his apartment. Love you guys.”
Before anyone could make a Xavier-related, or worse, sex-related, comment, I threw down a few bills and walked toward the exit. Yes, I was one of those weirdos who always carried cash.
I didn’t make it very far before a hand touched my back.
“Hey.” Macey had run after me. She whispered low enough that I had to strain to hear her. “We kind of brushed over the whole Landon thing. You’re okay, right?”
I forced a smile on my face. I appreciated the gesture, really, but I didn’t want to talk about Landon any more than I had to tonight. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.”
She squinted her eyes at me. “Two dollars that Xavier gets jealous about Landon.”
It was part of a years-old game we’d invented. We used low-stakes bets, always just a couple of dollars, with the winnings going straight to our shared utility fund.
“You’re on.”
When people asked a girl her favorite thing about her boyfriend, the usual answers were his intelligence, his kindness, his protectiveness, or maybe something as simple as his smile.
My favorite thing about Xavier? His posture.
He was constantly languid, like there wasn’t a thing in the world that bothered him. As someone who found something to worry about in every scenario, I admired that characteristic.
Even now, he sat at the dinner table—small, square, and designed for two—with a relaxed posture. One elbow was on the tablecloth, head tilted ever so slightly as if listening to the neighbors’ daughter practice her piano skills. His elegant fingers traced down the line of his chin, peppered with a five o’clock shadow as he listened to me talk.
I wasn’t sure how well he was listening, though, considering I had just confessed I had something big to share. His attention threatened to drift, but every time I thought he was going to disappear, he came right back with a comment that proved he was keeping up.
His pale, almost porcelain skin gave him an effortlessly polished look—one he somehow maintained without trying. Dark hair, neatly parted and slicked back, showed some classic prep-school charm. His face was smooth, lacking any sharp jawline, but its rounded softness only made his deep brown eyes seem warmer. A pressed Oxford shirt with the collar just slightly popped didn’t hurt the effect, either.
Those eyes met mine when I said, “I ran into Landon earlier this week.”
“Your ex-boyfriend Landon?”
As if there were another one.
“Yes.” I cut off the last piece of salmon from the skin. Xavier was a pescatarian, and he cooked a lot of fish dishes. “He moved back to Chicago.”
Xavier lifted a thick eyebrow. “He moved out of Chicago?”
Seriously?
I knew for a fact I told Xavier, in excruciating detail, about my relationship with Landon. It stuck with me, considering I went home with the memories hard on my heart and cried about them in the shower for twenty minutes. I hadn’t cried over Landon for years up until that point.
“He told me I deserved better, broke up with me, then moved away, remember?”
“Right.” Xavier nodded in a way that told me he didn’t recall that detail but would play along. “Why is he back in Chicago?”
