Chapter One
“You’vegottobefucking kidding me, Ricky.”
“Come on Theo, don’t be like that.”
“You’re breaking up with me on Valentine’s Day. I have every right to be upset.”
“You know what I think about Valentine’s Day. It’s a day of corporate greed and a celebration of capitalism. It has nothing to do with love.”
I grab my winter coat off the back of our couch. I guess it’shiscouch now, considering my name isn’t on the lease to this place.
Fucking, fuck. I’m so screwed. My friends all warned me not to move in with him after only three months of dating. But I was in love—and I thought he loved me. Clearly, that’s not true. If he did, this wouldn’t be happening right now. I fucking hate that I’m such a romantic, always falling for losers that do shit like this to me. Making me love them and never loving me back with the same effort.
Not anymore.
“Theo,” Ricky sighs. “You had to know this wasn’t going to work long term.”
I glare at him. “And how was I supposed to know that? Last night you were telling me how great we were together. How there was nobody like me.”
He pauses and threads a hand through his red hair. “I meant in bed.”
“Seriously?”
The man doesn’t even look apologetic as he shrugs. “We aren’t great day to day. Even you said we’re opposites.”
Anger boils in my veins. We are opposites, but that’s what I enjoyed about us. I thought he liked it too. He’s big, broad, and muscular with red hair and fair skin. I’m tall and lean-muscled, with sun-kissed bronze skin, and short dark brown hair. He loves to spend hours at the gym lifting, and I go on hikes because I love being in nature. Ricky can watch all his horrible shows on TV, and I spend time reading and taking care of my plants. I really did think it’s what made us, us. More things I was wrong about.
I rub a hand over my closely trimmed beard. “Whatever, Ricky. You’re an asshole.”
I angrily put on my coat and, for a split-second, debate if I should take some things with me now, but I’ll have to come back with boxes to get it all. He may own the furniture, but I did move in all my clothes and my beloved collection of houseplants, including Kenny, a Fiddle-leaf fig I’ve brought back from the brink of death time and time again. Now he’s thriving.
I stalk toward the front door, and as I’m putting on my winter boots, Ricky’s thick arms snake around my waist, tugging me back against his chest. I stiffen but don’t pull away. My traitorous body is still comforted by touch, though the scent of his Old Spice bodywash makes me want to gag. I never liked it, but now I really don’t like it.
He buries his nose against my neck and inhales. For a moment, I forget that he just broke up with me, and essentially said I was only good for sex, and allow him to nuzzle me. The moment his lips attach to my neck, I come to my senses. I push him back and spin so that I’m facing him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I thought we could have one last goodbye fuck. As you said, it is Valentine’s Day. And as I said, we are good together, Theo.”
Seriously? How did I not see that this guy is a dick?
“I can’t believe I thought I loved you.” I hit him hard in the chest so he goes tumbling back.
“Hey!” He yells.
“I’ll text you tomorrow so I can come and get my things.”
“Theo—”
“Goodbye, Ricky.”
I nab my keys from the hook near the door frame, and open the door. The frigid February wind bites into my heated skin as I throw it open, slamming it behind me. I eat up the snow-covered ground toward my mid-size SUV and get in, not looking back toward the condo I called home only minutes ago. I hit the start engine button and peel out of the driveway. I have no idea where I’m going, but there is one thing I know.
I need a drink. Or ten.
I don’t know why I chose a hotel with a bar on the opposite side of Grove City. I drove in silence for an hour before I found myself in the parking lot. I’ve never been here before, and I hardly ever come to this side of town since my job at the florist and my condo—my once condo—are far from here. But here I am.
I unbuckle my belt robotically, and make my way to the glass door. It’s started to snow and the wind is stronger now. I holdthe flaps of my unbuttoned coat closed, walking into the hotel lobby. It’s a nice place, decorated with pink and white lights and other Valentine’s Day decor. I would have loved this had I walked in a few hours prior—but no longer. Now I want to rip it all down and yell at the top of my lungs,“True love isn’t real! Fuck Valentine’s Day!”But that would be dumb of me, and I’d most likely be arrested. So instead, I ask the concierge where the bar is located and he directs me to the back and left of the lobby.
