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6
Our third datewas like an echo of our first date, only better. The events were the same—we started with dinner before finding a spot to park and strolling down the beach together—but the feeling was different. More comfortable. Less terrifying.
I couldn’t even remember how the food tasted. Hell, I wasn’t entirely sure of what I ordered. All I could think about during dinner was how happy Juliet looked and how badly I wanted to keep her that way.
But despite the fact that she was the one who asked to go to the beach, she seemed solemn as we walked. I caught her frowning at the ocean three times before I worked up the nerve to ask what was wrong.
Juliet hesitated. “I…. It means a lot to me that you wanted to get to know each other before things got physical.”
“But?”
“But… Jamie thinks you might have… done it like this on purpose. That it’s a game.”
“Jamie doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes as my dislike of the man returned. “He doesn’t even know me.”
“I know. He’s just concerned. It’s not like you’d be the first man to feed a woman lines to get up her skirt,” she said with a sigh as she stopped walking. “I hate to admit it, but I’ve fallen for an act like that before.”
An irrational amount of anger grew inside me at the thought of any man taking advantage of a sweet woman like Juliet. What kind of prick would take her for granted?
“It’s not an act. Not with me.”
“How can I really know that?”
Her eyes pleaded with me to give her something—anything—to put her mind at ease. I couldn’t share how deeply I felt for her without the possibility of her second-guessing my intention. For all she knew, it might have been just another line.
No, the only option I really had was something I desperately was hoping to avoid for a little while longer.
“I was married once,” I admitted, watching her eyes widen with surprise. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just…. It’s not my favorite topic of conversation.”
She nodded in acceptance of my apology before she gently asked, “What happened?”
“The entire story would take me hours to tell,” I bitterly mumbled. “So I’ll give you the cliff notes for now. She... she was young. Nineteen when I met her.”
“How old were you?”
“Thirty-three. Old enough to know better, but young enough to still be thinking with my dick.”
She winced a little before gesturing to the sand and I nodded as I lowered myself to the ground beside her. I might have been ruining a pair of expensive dress pants, but I didn’t really give a fuck. This was a sitting conversation.
“That’s not that bad,” Juliet tried to argue, clearly for my sake. “I mean, the age difference—”
“Is less than ours? Yeah, I know. The difference is you weren’t a spoiled teenager when I met you. I’m not saying it can never work out for people that young, but a few years can make a hell of a difference—believe me.”
Juliet nodded in agreement. She said nothing while I combed my fingers through my hair and stared at the waves, trying to figure out a way to keep the story short while also making my point.
“So she was young—too young—and I was a romantic who acted like a player to keep up appearances. Had I been anyone else, I wouldn’t have bought a word she said. But between the lies and the great sex... I lost myself to her. I honestly believed we were meant for one another so I ignored all the little signs that it was bullshit.”
“Little signs?”
“Like the vague warnings from friends, the weird feelings I got when we’d... when I held her. It always felt like she was in another world. She’d be in my arms, but...”
“But she was never really there,” Juliet finished for me with an understanding nod. “I’m so sorry, Ethan.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her because I knew I’d forget where I was. So I waved off her apology and continued.
“Got to hand it to her—the timing was perfect. I had just incorporated the gym when we met and by the time of the wedding, I was a millionaire. She plastered on a fake-ass smile and said her generic vows while I wore my heart on my sleeve like a jackass.” I stopped to laugh, shaking my head a little at the memory. “She invited a bunch of people she knew back in high school to the wedding. This one guy kept smirking at me during the reception. They’d been fucking around behind my back for a good six months. And he wasn’t the only one.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and I rushed to shorten my story. Depressing us both on a night that was supposed to be amazing was never my intention.
