And it stole every single person I’ve ever cared about.
My love fucking destroyed me.
And I’ll never let it infect anyone else again.
CHAPTER ONE
Dahlia
Age 27, San Francisco, California
Male bonding isweird as fuck.
I stare at Josh and watch him take another long swig of his beer as his friends Dane, Nate, and Michael, erupt in laughter at his expense. They’re laughing so loud I can literally feel it in my bones, which is kind of impressive considering I’m sitting on the opposite side of the booth and there’s at least a dozen flatscreens blasting a cacophony of sport sounds at us.
It’s obvious Josh hates the ridicule. He’s clenching his fist and his ears are turning redder and redder as their jeering stretches on, but instead of telling them to stop or trying to change the subject, he just sits there and takes it.
It’s almost hard to watch.
Maybe he’s a masochist?
Or has some kind of humiliation kink?
Either would be pretty surprising considering we’ve been on five dates and he seems as vanilla as my favorite kind of Coke.
Not that there’s anything wrong with vanilla. It’s comforting. Nice. Safe.
Ugh, why does it feel like I’m describing a cozy cottage near a lake?
We haven’t even had sex yet, but I have a feeling there will be little to no orgasms in my near future.
Don’t get me wrong, Josh is handsome. He has this sort of clean-cut, all-American look to him, with his sandy brownish-blonde hair and kind blue eyes that you could easily get lost in. Is he exactly my type? No. But that’s probably a good thing.
As if summoned by my pessimistic thoughts, Josh reaches under the table and gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
God,I need to be nicer to him. Josh is a nice guy and could actually be good-for-me. Who cares if he has terrible friends and the spine of a jellyfish? At least I know he’d never hurt me. He may not be what I want, but he could be what I need. And after everything I’ve been through, that has to count for something.
Besides, the man practically worships the ground I walk on and has been bending over backwards to make tonight happen. I rarely do the whole “meet the friends” thing, but when he showed up at Better Than Fiction unannounced and practically begged me to come out with him and his friends after work, I didn’t have the heart to tell him no.
Apparently, they’ve been giving him shit about making me up and that me “always being busy at my bookstore” was just an excuse to cover up his obvious lie.
While running the shop does keep me busy, I’d belying if I said that was the only reason I’ve been avoiding them.
The thing is, meeting friends makes things between us more serious. And the minute things get serious, the next expectation is love.
What I feel for Josh isn’t anywhere close to love, and for me, it never will be.
He says he’s okay with that. That he’s willing to take whatever I’ll give him. But that’s what everyone says before they catch feelings and the reality of my damage sinks in.
I stir my pineapple vodka and watch the four of them, feeling disconnected from the whole scene.
Josh’s friends weren’t very attractive to begin with, but they’re all just a touch uglier when they laugh like this. It’s like the features that looked a little wonky on them before, are even more pronounced now.
Dane’s beady eyes are beadier.
Nate’s scrunched up nose is scrunchier.
And Michael’s veiny forehead is veinier.
