Page 44 of Beg Me

“Gimme.”

“Remember the girl Kristy that I work with?” she asks. “Well, she’s been dating this guy named Tyler and their relationship is rocky, to put it mildly. It’s gross. I’ve told her a hundred times to dump his ass, and she finally took my advice.”

I take another sip, certain this isn’t where this ends. “Continue.”

“She was telling me that it’s over, and I told her to block him on everything because he’s trash. And I stand by that.” She lifts a brow. “She pulls him up on Social while I was standing beside her. I wasn’t looking, but I also wasn’t not looking, and Tyler? Yeah. I went out with him last week. He told me that his name was Jeremiah.”

“No way.” My jaw dusts the tabletop. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. And, of course, they’re back together.”

I roll my eyes.

“And now I don’t know what to do,” Nettie says. “Obviously, I called him and told him to fuck all the way off. But do I tell Kristy? Girl code says yes. I know that. But we aren’t really friends to start with, and I’ve been telling her to dump this dude for months. I don’t want her to think I was doing it to, I don’t know, get a chance with him myself.” She sighs, pausing to down half of her martini. “No matter what I say, she’s going to stay with him. Another girl told her basically a version of this story a few weeks ago, and she blamed it on the girl.”

Yikes. “This is messy. I don’t think there’s a clear answer here.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to be the problem. I wasn’t going to see him again, even before I found out he’s a man of many aliases, and he’s definitely not worth the drama.”

“Maybe you can just wait. She doesn’t know you saw his picture, right? So, just wait until he acts up again, and she’s ranting about him. Then ask for a picture.” I shrug. “She’ll be mad at him, anyway, so it’ll feel less like you’re trying to ruin her happiness and more like you’re on her side.” I cringe. “I don’t know. Is that manipulative?”

“Hell if I know.” She runs her fingertip along the rim of her glass. “Enough about me. Tell me about you.” Her grin is debaucherous. “How did practice go with rugby boy?”

I laugh at the name she coined for Jory, a name that I’ve accidentally admitted to my vernacular and let slip once in front of him.

The thought of him entering my mind is accompanied by a very, very specific ball of fire in my core. It apparently has taken up residence there, ready to reheat as soon as his name or a memory sparks to life. It’s unfortunate—and inconvenient.

“That good, huh?” she asks, giggling.

In my head, I’ve been trying to justify my reaction to him. I’ve been working hard to figure out a way to contain the butterflies in my stomach when he’s around. The only way I think that can happen is if he doesn’t look at me, breathe on me, laugh around me—and definitely not touch me.

I can still feel his hand on my face from this afternoon.

“Let’s just start with the fact that I hate him,” I say, giggling, too.

“Sure looks like it.”

I lean forward and sigh. “He has no business being so …”

I’m not sure whether to start with the fact that he’s maddeningly gorgeous, or charming, or decent. Or how I’ve tried to find a flaw in him and have come up empty-handed. Or how I forget how much I hate men when he’s in the room and how the protective shield I feel like I carry through life feels less necessary around him.

It’s dangerous, to be sure. And I’m positive that the more time I spend with him, the sooner I’ll find his fatal flaw. I don’t want to find it. But I don’t want to think he’s perfect, either.

It would be so much better if I hadn’t ever met the man. Life was better when I hated them all.

“How long has it been since you had sex?” Nettie asks, grinning.

“Almost five months.”

“Then it’s no wonder you’re all hormonal about this guy.”

Yeah. She’s right. “Thanks, Net.”

“Of course. That’s why you keep me around. For my irrefutable insight into your relationships.” She takes me in, giving me a moment to respond. But when I don’t, she correctly reads that I don’t want to talk about this anymore. “So, on to the wedding. Have you and Mira figured out the rehearsal stuff yet?”

“No. We’re meeting with Cathy at Mira’s tomorrow after church. Audrey promised to have a head count and that she’d confirm whether they’re getting married in the church or in the barn on their property.”

Her eyes light up. “Oh, that would be fun. Can you imagine the barn with string lights and flowers? It would be beautiful.”