Chapter One
My Life
Dallas
June, This Year
“Calm down, Demi.” I stepped onto the curb and glanced at my immediate surroundings. Downtown Ann Arbor was buzzing with activity, people everywhere. Couples walking hand-in-hand, dogs pulling their owners, men leering, weirdos being weird. A typical evening in my hometown. “Give me a sec.” I put my AirPods in and dropped my phone into my bag. “Okay, I’m here. What’s going on?”
“I’m done. Finished.”
I rolled my eyes. My bestie, Demi, called at least once a week to tell me she was finished with something. It was either her man or her career. She’d recently moved to Los Angeles and had immediately picked up a very wealthy, high-profile client—actress Paige Mills. “Is it work?” I asked, checking my watch.
“No,” my friend said.
“So, it’s Dorian?”
“Yes.”
I sighed. “What the hell did he do this time?”
“He told me I needed to lose some weight.”
“So, fuck him.” At this point, we’d been friends for far too long for me to mince words. “Tell his ass to grow a dick. Since you’ve been complaining he can’t get the job done.”
“Dallas!”
I shrugged. “What?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m walking to the restaurant.” I hurried across the street, nearly running into a young man in super tight shorts and light blue hair. “I told you I’m meeting Maya for dinner.”
“Exactly. Which means you’re out in public, loud as hell, talking about my boyfriend’s dick?”
“You know I don’t spend my time worrying about what people think of me. I don’t live in that part of my feelings. And you shouldn’t either.”
Demi snorted. “I’m hanging up.”
“If you hang up on me, I’m telling Blake to call you.” My friend’s heavy sigh let me know that was the last thing she wanted. My sister was ruthless when it came to this type of shit. After all, Blake was known as The Breakup Expert. She’d been helping women break up with their trifling men for years. “Listen, I love you. But I hate Dorian.”
“I kind of hate him too,” she admitted.
“Okay, then. Do something about it.”
“Fine.”
I stopped in front of the restaurant and peered through the window. Maya was already seated at a booth. “Shit, she’s here.”
“She’s early,” Demi said.
About fifteen minutes early, which wasn’t ideal. I made it a point to be early to every occasion, whether it was dinner with my father, a pedicure with my sisters, or a work meeting. It was a personal goal to be anywhere before everyone else so I could think, formulate a plan of action. “I have to go. By the time I call you tonight, I hope you’ll be single. Bye, girl.” I pulled my earbuds out and set them in the case. When I reached out to open the door, a very masculine hand stopped me. I whirled on him, ready to clock whoever it was for having the audacity to touch me. “What…? You.” I yanked my arm free. “This isn’t happening.”
“Dallas!” My ex, Kimball Payne, blocked my entrance into the restaurant. “I’m sayin’. Give me a chance.”
Stepping out of arms reach, I folded my arms over my chest. “I thought I made myself very clear the last time you came to see me.”
The six long months I’d spent with him were some of the worst of my life. If Kimball wasn’t calling me every ten minutes for no reason at all, he was leaving mushy voicemails and texting heart emojis. I’d known from the beginning that it wouldn’t last, and I’d stayed for the weekend sex. Until I couldn’t even do that anymore.
