Mindy dropped off our drinks, then showed us how to use the table-top kiosk to order more drinks, appetizers if we got hungry, and pay our bill when we’re all done. “I’ll come back to check on ya in a bit.”
After playing with the kiosk, we ordered Inkwell’s signature sliders and truffle fries basket. I fished my phone out of my purse to snap more selfies, then uploaded them to UCChat with #SingleInNewYork and #OutWithMyBitches.
“Holy Mother of Shit,” Chloe squeaked, chin lifted in the direction of two guys walking toward us. “It’s those hotties who sat across from our table at Pizza Express earlier today.”
Slurping my sugary drink, I kept my gaze strapped to Chloe; snapping my eyes in their direction would have made it obvious we were talking about them. “So…they’re stalking us?”
“We should be so lucky,” Chloe snorted. “Those guys are here for interview week.”
“And what makes you so sure about that, Ms. Nancy Drew?” Sage pestered.
“Because I saw them at our hotel. We were stepping off the elevator just as they stepped on. Both were holding that sameWelcome To Hot Shotfolder we got at check-in.”
Truth is, I noticed them too—particularly the Chris Hemsworth clone who winked at me. But with no plans to hook up with some random hottie in New York, I ignored his silent greeting, and a few hours later, ignored a series of infectious smiles he flashed my way at Pizza Express.
Still, my heart burned.
I couldn’t help but think meeting someone new could be the balm to soothe it.
“Sssh,” Sage warned. “They’re headed right for us.”
Seconds later, I became enraptured by the sight and sound of absolute yumminess.
“Mind if we join you?”
11
“Here’s your ring back,” Harper gloated, mouth stretched out in an unabashed grin that told me she didn’t give a single fuck. Apparently, the sleaze felt compelled to stop by and admit she’d been cheating on me for well over two years, dispatching her news with a nonchalant shrug.
Two. Years.
“Daddy likes you,” she whined. “He wouldn’t approve of me dating Sherlock, or anyone else from a rival team. I sort of used my relationship with you as a cover.”
Tucking the ring in my sweatpants pocket, I didn’t care for all the bullshit oozing from her mouth even though an inconsequential part of me wondered why she bothered saying yes to my marriage proposal.
Thankfully, while she stood in the doorway, yapping like Charlie Brown’s teacher, that pizza delivery I’d been expecting showed up. I tipped the delivery guy, grabbed my food, then kicked the door closed, leaving Harper, jaw dropped and stupefied. When I sat down and dialed Macy, eager to finally disclose Harper and I were done, voicemail greeted me.
I’ll be hella busy doing ‘single in New York City’ stuff.
Those words lingered, stuck to my brain like bubblegum to the bottom of a fucking shoe.
It didn’t help matters when Sage posted pics of Macy seatedwaytoo close to some asshat with boy-band hair. KirkTheDreamBoat was the hashtag Sage used. Um…who the fuck was Kirk?
Three days later I found myself exhausted. Having had little to no sleep, my stomach, neck, whole body was in knots. Every single one of my calls to Macy went ignored, as did the numerouscall me backtext messages I’d sent. It became painfully—no, annoyingly—obvious she was giving me the brush-off.
AJ:Dude. Where the F are you? Practice started 20 minutes ago. Coach K is about to put out a bounty on your balls.
Fuck.
I’d played football most of my life and never had I been late to practice, especially one just two days before homecoming.
Me: On my way.
It took only ten seconds for his reply to swoosh in.
AJ: Whatever, fucker. Coach has us all doing sprints until you decide to show up.
Shitting bricks, I met nothing but red lights during my drive. By the time I walked onto the field, my teammates eyeballed me like a herd of angry sharks out for blood.
