“Embarrassed,” I squeezed out. “He got what he wanted and now he’s leaving. The whole thing’s a fucking cliche. I just didn’t think this kind of thing would still happen in our fucking thirties.” I scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to clear my emotions. “Whatever.”
“Hey, it’s his loss,” Desi said sternly.
“Not really,” I said, feeling pathetic. “I feel like I lost a whole lot just now. I probably won’t see him again for another decade,” I said lamely.
Her mouth formed anoh. “Wait, I’m confused. Do we hate him or do we want to see him again?”
“Both,” I said miserably, and then I let out the entire sordid tale of night before.
_________
Later that night, Desi convinced me to join the rest of the group for dinner and bar-hopping through downtown Charleston, where we were docked for the night.
“It’ll be good for you,” she argued as she threw a skimpy dress across the room at me. “You just have to forget about him, ya know? Find someone new to make out with.” She wagged her eyebrows at me.
But I wasn’t sure that was even possible.
For one, it felt like JP was permanently stamped at the front of my brain.
And two, the thought of making out with anyone else made me want to throw up.
I only wanted JP.
But he didn’t want me.
So, what was a girl to do…
I tried my best not to be a downer, but withouthim, the whole night felt kind of…empty. What was the point of drinking or dancing if I wasn’t ending the night with him? Smiling felt like a foreign concept, and my chest just felt hollow.
“Behind you to the right,” Desi whispered as she saddled up on a barstool next to me.
“Huh?” I slammed my phone face-down on the bar. Instead of enjoying the breezy summer night and taking in this rooftop bar’s magnificent view of the Ravenel Bridge, I was stupidly waiting for a text from JP that I knew would probably never come.
“Hot guy. He keeps looking at you. What do you think? Mullet and mustaches are so in right now,” Desi said with a little laugh.
“No,” I glumly replied. I couldn’t even make myself look. Slumping forward, I leaned my elbows on the bar and held my head. I didn’t want mullets or mustaches. I wanted buzzed hair and a chiseled jaw. I wanted JP.
Desi blew out a breath. “Okay, so no new guys. Are you sure you’re not making a mistake with the whole JP thing? Maybe—”
“No,” I cut her off with a pointed look. “He said he’ll be ‘busy with hockey,’” I said with air quotes. “That’s their favorite line.”
“Yeah.” Her face fell and so did my heart. I was hoping she’d argue that it wasn’t a big deal, but she also grew up side-by-side with hockey players. She knew all their dumb lines and moves just as well as I did. “I’m sorry. He’s an idiot.”
“Let’s just drink,” I slurred, already three sheets to the wind thanks to the pitcher of margarita I pretty much hogged at dinner. Looking down at my fruity drink in front of me, a little drop fell into it. I was shocked when I realized it fell from my eye. “Ugh,” I groaned and wiped at my face. “He was just so warm, ya know?”
Her face morphed into a frown. “Oh girl, you’re in deep.”
With a pathetic pout, I slammed my forehead on the bar.
________
At some point past midnight, Desi stumbled back to my room with me. When I opened my door, a little note was on the groundlike it’d been tucked under the threshold.
Clumsily picking it up, my drunk brain read it slowly, and I could feel Desi reading it with me over my shoulder.
“Oh no. Oh girl, I’m sorry, but that’sreallysweet,” she said.
My eyes blurred as I re-read the few sentences in JP’s handwriting:
