“Everyone knows when a woman says she’s fine, she’s never fine,” Lou said, zipping up her travel bag.
“Exactly,” I added. “It’s the same thing. We women want to know that our guys know us. That they can figure out the issue without being instructed or told.”
“That’s…” His brows furrowed. “Very unintuitive. Anzy, look, men are straightforward. You tell us what you want, we make it happen. You tell us what you don’t want, we avoid the shit out of it. End of story.”
“Well, I told him not to message me, but he’s been doing that just fine, which means he didn’t show up because he didn’t want to.”
His cheeks puffed out, then slowly deflated.
“Whatever,” I said. “I don’t have time for this argument.” I unhooked my keys from the wall rack and grabbed my purse. “I’m meeting friends at the café a block over. Bee’ll help you lock up.”
“Which friends?” Vinny asked, pulling out his phone.
“None of your business,” I singsonged.
With an air kiss to Bee and kisses goodbye to both Boyan and Lou after promising to meet up for breakfast at Tore’s in the morning, I left my apartment with an odd sense of dejection. After four days of no contact, I had really hoped he’d feel the need to be with me enough to make a move. Instead, he buried me under piles of materialistic items. Maybe emotional closeness wasn’t something he needed or wanted after being behind bars so long.
Joseph and Marc, close friends from my first two years of medical school, were already seated in the café by the time I arrived, gulping down their mochas and macchiatos with gusto. Unlike Renzo, who wore his aura of violence like a badge of honor, Joseph and Marc were the good guy, wholesome types raised on the importance of good friendships, fun, and working hard for an honest living. What mattered most to them was getting their degrees and into the best residency programspossible. They didn’t worry about who might attack them or if their actions might send them to jail. They weren’t restrained by age differences or adoptive relationships. Their worries were small. Maybe that was what I liked best about spending time with them.
I sipped on my ginger spice latte, watching them gesture animatedly through their conversation about recent roster changes in the upcoming NHL season, and smiled.
Marc had that typical Clark Kent bearing about him—good-looking even with a comb-over and glasses, and gifted with the body of a linebacker, all lean muscle. He actually worked through his undergrad degree on a sports scholarship before getting into medical school. His brains and brawn should have been the perfect combination for me, but we’d only ever been friends. I couldn’t see him any other way.
Joseph, on the other hand, had asked me out two years ago, and I’d refused. He was a gorgeously fit Black man with sharp features, a sexy fade, short haircut, and dark soul-sucking eyes that generally made women fall over themselves for a date with him. His tight tees showed off his abs, and he wasn’t shy about putting his other muscles on display. Unfortunately for me, I enjoyed teasing him about his sexual prowess more than I was interested in being one of his conquests.
Last summer, the three of us and another school friend, Jennifer, volunteered for the same outreach program. We’d spent almost every waking moment together. This year, Joseph and Marc volunteered in clinics, while Jennifer found a short-term internship at a lab. Instead of joining them, I took the summer off, knowing Renzo was getting out of prison. This was the first time we’d seen each other all summer.
“So how have you both been?”
Joseph, of course, gave me a rundown of the clinic’s hottest nurses and medical assistants, including the administrativeassistant he was currently sleeping with. Big eyeroll there. Marc, instead, dumped information on the best cases he’d seen so far—much more interesting. Neither had any good gossip to share, which made Jennifer’s absence all the more noticeable.
“And you?” Marc asked. “We’ve barely heard from you.”
“Yeah, I’ve been missing your elbow jabs when I win over a woman you failed to warn away.” That had become Joseph’s and my game. He chose a woman to seduce. I bet he couldn’t, then actively worked to show her how wrong he was for her. It was sad how often I lost our little game.
“Aw, you bored without me?” I teased.
“Don’t answer if you know what’s good for you.” The growled words came from directly behind me.
I turned in my seat, disbelieving. It really was Renzo. He stood there straight as a board, chest puffed, fists clenched at his sides, all suited up. A line was furrowed between his brows, his green eyes dark and foreboding.
“Hey, buddy, you’ve got the wrong table.” Joseph waved him off.
“Do I?” With the aggression pulsating from Renzo in waves, it was a miracle he hadn’t drawn his gun from his holster or slipped out the knife I knew he hid up his sleeve.
Eyes throughout the café were flicking our way.
“Renzo, this isn’t the time. I’m with friends. We’ll talk later.”
“We’ll talk now, Ainsley.”
The gravelly demand sent my body into a frenzy, my pussy clenching on nothing but air. My skin prickled, yearning for his touch. It was annoying how easily he drew me in with just a few words. He didn’t get to show up now, after I’d been waiting for him for the last four days.
“Leave,” I told him. “Now.”
“Anzy, who is this guy?” Marc pushed up his glasses.
“I’m the man in her life.”
