“I know,” Alex says, her eyes gleaming. “It was perfect. I couldn’t believe it—I sat there staring at the ring. I just couldn’t process that he was actually proposing to me, now, like this. Then he got down on one knee in front of the sofa, and said all this amazing stuff. And I was crying my eyes out.”
I snort into my wine glass. Typical Alex.
“Wow,” Geoff breathes. “You’re going to be Mrs. Alexis Hawkins. I can’t believe you’re marrying Sexy—I mean, Michael. I’m so happy for you.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, staring at my champagne.
“I was so excited I came down to tell you last night, Cat, but you were still out.”
“Wait.” Geoff puts a hand on my arm, and immediately I feel heat spreading up my neck, because I know what’s coming. “You were outlatelast night?”
I clear my throat, avoiding his gaze. “Mm-hm.”
“Wait.” Alex drops onto the sofa on my other side. “Were you…?”
I examine my nails. “Was I what?”
“Did you sleep with Myles?” Geoff practically squeals.
“Is thisreallythe thing to be focusing on right now? Alex just got engaged, for Christ’s sake.”
“That’s a yes,” Alex says, trading a look with Geoff.
“I can’t believe it!” He adjusts his glasses, struggling to contain his grin. “I can’t believe you actually did it. How was it?”
I force out a frustrated breath. “It was…”Fantastic. Mind-blowing. Possibly the best sex I’ve ever had, and something I’m desperately trying to forget, but can’t seem to stop obsessing about.“It was okay.” I pick at a piece of lint on my jeans, the weight of their collective gaze bearing down on me. “Okay, fine!” I throw my hand in the air. “It was amazing.”
Geoff gasps, and when I glance at him he’s pink with elation. “Iknewit. You two—”
“No.” This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell them. “There is no ‘us two.’”
Alex’s brows draw together. “Why not?”
“Because—” I push down the odd feeling stirring inside me. “Come on, you know that’s not what I want. I’m looking for more than just a quick fuck with the local bartender. The one who—let me remind you—is very similar to my ex-husband.”
Geoff rolls his eyes. “Do you seriously believe that? Why, because he’s a bartender with tattoos? That doesn’t mean he’s the same person Mark was.”
“You don’t even know him, Geoff.”
“No, I don’t. But, you know”—he shrugs—“you do this sometimes.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do what?”
“You form judgments about people based on the wrong things. Take Shane; you thought he was great, just because he was hot and loaded. Then he turned out to be a total dick.”
I clench my jaw, irritated. Because that observation is correct. Obviously.
“Besides,” Geoff adds, “I don’t think you would have slept with Myles if you truly believed he was like Mark. Not to mention how much you’re letting him help you with the business. I know you see it as a sign of weakness, Cat, but I think you trust him.”
My gaze flits to Alex and she nods in agreement.
I look down at my champagne, watching the bubbles float to the surface. Shit, they’re right. Idotrust Myles—and not just with the business stuff. No wonder I felt comfortable enough to sleep with him.
And as for the similarities to Mark, is it possible they’re just superficial? Admittedly, his personality isn’t all that similar to Mark’s. He’s kind and generous and surprisingly deep, sometimes.
But… I get a flashback to him twirling the bottle behind the bar, flirting with a group of women, and something in my stomach sours. It doesn’t matter how much he tells me that he only flirts for tips, that it doesn’t mean anything. Because this whole situation is too damn familiar for me to simply dismiss it.
And that’s not the only thing that feels familiar, I realize. I’m trusting Myles to help me with my business, just like I trusted Mark to do the same. The last time I mixed business and pleasure it was a fiasco and nearly cost me everything. Myles is supposed to be my ticketawayfrom that—to help me save my livelihood, my passion. I need to keep my head on straight here.
