“I’m not tainting this friendship with loans. That’s a rule my father learned the hard way when he lent money to his best friend. I love you, Saar, but stop offering.”
She nods. “Understood. Let me show you the pics of a potential future Mr. Winslow.”
Snorting, I wipe my hands and reach for her phone. “Show me.”
Both candidates are handsome and rich. They’re both perfect on paper. I should be more excited. Why am I not?
“My sister went to university to find herself a husband,” I say. “I always judged her for that. But perhaps a part of me resented her for being able to study while I stayed behind to help Dad.”
“Did she find a husband?”
“Yes she did actually.”
“Good for her. You will get one soon too, and then your troubles are over. Freedom is waiting.” She pokes me with her elbow, teasing.
“I can’t believe I’m becoming my sister.”
“You’re not becoming anyone. You’re just overthinking everything. You will date amazing, educated men who can pull you out of your reality once or twicea week. Hopefully it will give you a new perspective. Then you can redefine yourself.”
“Redefine myself?”
It’s like she’s saying something between the lines, but I can’t quite grasp it. What new perspective?
“I love you, Cora. Let me treat you to some quality male material.” She winks, avoiding a direct answer.
“Thank you.” I sigh.
She shrugs. “I’m doing it as a service to your neglected lady parts.”
I groan and laugh at the same time, shaking my head. Saar laughs.
I remember something she said earlier. “Why do you think Corm is invested in your matchmaking scheme? It doesn’t sound like him.”
She purses her lips. “To mess with Xander, I guess.”
The mention of the handsome devil makes my insides flip, both in a good and not-so-good way.
Two days ago, the morning after my birthday, I woke up in agony on the sofa, my entire body screaming in protest on the uneven, soft mattress, my head throbbing, my mouth dry, and the memory of the night before churning in my stomach along with the hangover.
While the last moments of the night are kind ofhazy, and seriously dampening my love of Zinfandel, one thing I know for sure.
I came onto him, and Xander Stone left. I thought I would feel bad after hooking up with him. Well, the idea of that aftertaste doesn’t compare to the embarrassing sense of rejection etched in my mind after I woke up and replayed the events.
“What does my dating life have to do with Xander Stone?”
Saar raises her eyebrows, unimpressed. “It’s crystal clear he wants you.”
“Sorry to disappoint Corm and the rest of you, but he most certainly doesn’t. There might have been a brief moment of desire the day of the luncheon, but that is gone.”
Why did he seek me out on my birthday if that’s the case? Was I really so drunk that I repulsed him? Fuck.
In any case, as I sobered up, I knew he had made the right decision.
Xander Stone hasn’t kissed me yet, and his taste is intoxicating already.
He hasn’t touched me yet, and his touch is burning.
He hasn’t claimed me yet, and I feel the aftershocks already.
