Cory’s eyes narrow. “I’ve just heard some things about him. Plus he hits on women left, right and center.”
I snort with amusement. “So do you.”
“Well, yeah,” he admits, giving a guilty laugh. “But… I’m not dating you. You don’t want a guy like that, trust me.” Cory’s gaze locks with mine and I swallow hard. We were sitting in this exact booth when Cory told me he’d seen Mark out in the East Village with another woman. I try to stop the memory but it floods onto the screen inside my brain, forcing me to watch it play out again.
“I’m so sorry,” Cory had said. He took my hand, squeezing it hard. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but you need to know.”
My heart took a nosedive as I tried to ignore the panic weaving through me. “Maybe it wasn’t what you think,” I’d said. It was pathetic, the way I so desperately clung to a tiny thread of hope. But even before Cory responded, I knew the answer.
“It was. I know what I saw.”
Cory’s tone made my blood run cold. I’d always had my suspicions about Mark, especially after I’d caught him at the bar all those years before, but I’d just told myself I was being paranoid.
But as Cory took me home and sat with me while I confronted Mark, everything unraveled. Apparently it wasn’t his first affair, though I don’t know how many there were. I didn’t dare ask; I just sat on the sofa, numb with shock, while Cory yelled at Mark to get the fuck out before he broke every bone in his body.
And the next day when Mark came home to collect his things and begged me to reconsider, I dug deep inside and found a reserve of inner strength I didn’t know I had. I told him I was divorcing him and I was keeping the apartment, then I swore to myself that I wouldneverlet this happen to me again.
My gaze drifts to Myles now, where he’s chatting up a woman sitting alone at the bar—a scene so familiar I shudder. I know better than to get involved with a guy like him. You don’t make that mistake twice.
“I wouldn’t, Cors. After Mark… I wouldn’t.” I push all images of Mark from my brain. “Besides, I’m excited about Shane. I have a good feeling about him.”
Cory puts an arm around my shoulder. “I’m glad, sis,” he says, squeezing. Then he heads back to the bar.
We sip our drinks, watching the crowd slowly gather on the dance floor as the DJ turns the music up. After a while, Alex and Geoff go and dance, but I stay in the booth, enjoying my—fourth?—drink. Ah, it doesn’t matter. Things are turning around for me. I’ve met a cute guy who takes me out to nice dinners, and I’ve got a friend who’s helping me regain control of my business and escape my ex-husband.
Actually, do I still have that? I hope I didn’t weird Myles out with all that talk about how much sex I’m not having. He seemed strangely disturbed by that information.
I watch him work, serving customers without much chatter, just getting through the crowd. Finally, there’s a lull and I wave my arm, trying to catch his attention. But it’s like he’s avoiding me or something; no matter what I do, he won’t look my way. Why can’t he see me flailing my arms over here?
I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts. We exchanged numbers to set up a time to work on the site, but we haven’t been in contact yet. Now is as good a time as any. I press his name and watch as he pulls his phone out, glances at the screen with a frown, then raises his eyes to mine. I smile, gesturing for him to join me. With a glance up and down the bar, he reluctantly wanders over. He motions to the empty glasses scattered on the table, saying something I can’t hear over the music.
“What?” I bellow.
He leans closer. “You want me to clear these?”
“You think that’s why I called you over?”
He shrugs, still leaning close, gaze averted.
“Myles, sit down.”
He hesitates, then slides into the booth beside me. Placing his elbows on the table, he stares straight ahead, not saying anything.
What is going on with him? I’ve never seen him like this.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
He gestures to his ear to indicate that he can’t hear me. The music is pumping, the dance floor is heaving, and I’m going to have to yell to be heard.
I grab his arm, pulling him closer so my mouth is right by his ear. “I’m sorry about before. That was embarrassing.”
He gives a tiny nod, eyes fixed out on the dance floor somewhere. I follow his gaze and the room swims a little. His bicep flexes under my hand as he shifts his weight. He’s still being weird and I don’t like it.
I lean in toward his ear again. “I didn’t mean for you to overhear me. I don’t make a habit of telling people I haven’t had sex in forever.”
He turns to me now, his face inches from mine. For the first time I notice he has a tiny freckle on his left cheek and my fingertips tingle with the urge to reach up and touch it.
“That’s not… I mean, I didn’t—” he breaks off, turning away again. His jaw is set, his brow is furrowed. I realize I haven’t seen him smile all evening.
