“Yes.”
“Then I’m not answering.” But he wished he could rewind time and take her to a different coffee shop.
“She looks just like Dakota,” Molly said, plunging forward. “Minus the whole, like, Cruella de Vil thing Dakota has going on.” She held up her hands in immediate surrender. “I know I’m not supposed to say things like that. But I didn’t like her.” Molly pointed to the patio where Cassidy had found a table for her and her book. “I do likeher.”
“Dakota is a good person,” he said. Why did he feel the need to defend his other ex?
Well, she was a good person. Misunderstood. Deserving of love. Deserving of success.
He was sorry he couldn’t give her the first. Hoped like hell she got the second.
The night Gavin met Dakota, he thought she was Cassidy.
That was his first mistake.
But it was a mistake that gave him hope.
He called her name, thinking she was Cassidy. The woman who turned wasnotCassidy.
“Sorry,” he had said. “I guess you’re not who I thought you were.”
Dakota had studied him thoroughly. Up, then down. She quirked an eyebrow in that way only Dakota could do. “Perhaps I could be?”
He had chuckled before saying, “Perhaps.”
But she wasn’t.
And by the time he realized he didn’t love her the way she deserved, she’d come to the same conclusion. So it was best for everyone that she moved to Boston without him.
“Cassidy was a good person when I knew her. People change, but she still seems like a good person. I hope the divorce wasn’t hard on her.” He did hope that. He was also done talking about it so they could talk about gala dresses or whatever.
“Oh, it was hard on her.” Molly glanced through the windows at Cassidy. “Trust me on that.”
“I’ll take your word.” They moved to the front of the line and he ordered his espresso. She ordered her mint and ginger tea. There was a bit of a kerfuffle about who would pay. He got his credit card out sooner, but promised she could buy the next round.
Compromising already. This was good.
They moved to the booth he’d had his eye on and settled in across from each other. The two of them. He laid his hand on the table, hoping she’d take the bait.
Molly sipped at her tea, her lips wrapping over the plastic lip of her lid. She did not take the bait.
Instead, she played with the lid of her paper cup.
She sighed. Then she went for it. “Cassidy is totally into you.”
“Okay,” he said. Once, he’d been into Cassidy, too, but that was years ago. Tonight, he’d really like to focus on Molly. He was very into her at the moment. Refocusing on that was most definitely the priority.
“Are you into her?” The crack in Molly’s voice gave away her feelings without her having to say a syllable.
Gavin reached for her hand on the table. He gave it a squeeze. “I’m here with you, not her.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be.” Molly said this with her gaze focused on the woodgrain of the table.
“Molly.” Gavin squeezed for her hand again. He didn’t pull away after he squeezed it. “She’s not the one I’m into.”
Molly glanced up. Meeting his eyes with a focus and earnestness that should’ve knocked him over. “But you could be. Maybe you should be.”
“Are you actually trying to get me to see someone else while I’m out with you?” Because he really would prefer to talk about anything else. Focus on the present or, hell, the future. Not the past.
