I fold my arms and lower my chin.
“Sorry, sorry.” His gaze flicks over me. “You wanted to look good for your hook-up, huh?”
I lift my chin and stare into his big brown eyes. “I made an effort.”
His voice softens, “You look great.”
I do my bestnotto focus on how handsome he is or how nice his aftershave smells. “I should go. You’ve got time to find someone else to hook up with.” I turn towards my car.
“You’re back in the game?”
I freeze. “Just about. I only created that profile this evening.”
He whistles. “What will you do now?”
I look over my shoulder. “Go back to the farm. Read. Get some sleep.”
He stares at me for several seconds before sighing. “Or we could do something. Not sex,” he adds. “But we could hang out.”
“You want to spend time with me?” I ask incredulously.
He opens and closes his mouth. “Look, all I was looking for was some stress relief tonight. I’m in the middle of finals, and it sucks.”
“I can relate.”
“So yeah, I could message someone else, or we could see a film, or have a drink in the nearest pub, or something.” He spreads his hands and stares at them. “If you want to.”
Do I? Why is he even offering?
I turn around. “Wouldn’t it be awkward?”
“Because we?—?”
“Slept together.” I hush my voice to a whisper—a miserable one, at that.
“It might be, but it’s got to be better than letting our nights get ruined, right?”
Does it? Once upon a time, I’d have loved to spend the evening hanging out with Jimmy, but that was before he became cold and distant. That was before he started hating me for reasons I still don’t understand.
“I’m sorry for ruining your night,” he says in a conciliatory tone.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I messaged you.”
“I replied.” Based on a picture of his chest. A chest I found attractive. I swallow hard.
“You didn’t know it was me.”
And he didn’t realise he was contacting me. Which should absolve me of all guilt for being here, but it doesn’t. Picture or not, I was—am—attracted to my ex’s twin brother’s chest. Isn’t that a betrayal?
“You’re not married to him anymore,” Jimmy says softly.
I look up and blink.
“And trust me, he’s out there having fun.”
Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be? We’re divorced. Billy doesn’t owe me anything. And I don’t owe him anything, either. I clench my fists. Why should I put my life on hold out of some warped sense of duty?
