Page 81 of Bulletproof

When I walked by an outdoor restaurant, the smell of garlic and onions made my stomach roll with hunger. Inside, I was told that the wait for a table might be easily an hour, so I was ready to try someplace else when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, and when I did, I smiled.

I was looking at my ex, Aaron Sutter.

“Hey,” I greeted him happily. “How are you?”

He just stared at me with his always-gorgeous, bright blue eyes. The man was classically handsome, with chiseled features, broad shoulders, and a lean, muscular physique. At that moment, in walking shorts and a muted aloha shirt, he looked amazing.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“Me? I spend two weeks in March every year in Hawai’i with some of my fraternity brothers from Yale. We come to fish and sail and just detox and catch up. You’re the one who’s a surprise.”

“I don’t remember you making this trip when we were together.”

He shrugged. “I canceled that year because I knew you wouldn’t come with me.”

“I would have come if I could have afforded it.”

“Yeah, I know, but living on your budget was no fun for me.”

Which I was sure was reason number two hundred twenty-seven or two hundred forty-two on the list of reasons we had broken up. We were so not compatible on so many levels.

“Why are you here?” he pressed me.

“Just on vacation.”

“Alone?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Why not?”

He squinted at me. “That’s not like you. You don’t even like to eat by yourself.”

Which was true.

“Yeah, well, Dane offered, so I came.”

“I see.”

“Are you leaving?”

“No, we actually just got here and …” He reached out and fixed the collar of my shirt. “Why don’t you come eat with me? I’d love you to meet my partner.”

I got excited. “You have a partner?”

“Yes,” he groused at me. “And don’t look so surprised.”

A surge of feeling washed over me because, holy crap, I had always wanted Aaron Sutter to find his Prince Charming. Long ago and way too late, he had come to the epiphany that he loved me, but I had known, as I always did, that only one man would do for the rest of my life.

“I’m not surprised.” I shook my head. “I’m just happy.”

He fiddled with my sleeve. “I actually have some good qualities, you know.”

And he did. God, he did. “Yeah, but you can also be a real dick.”

He gave me the shrug, combined with the tip of his head, like, Yeah, yeah. So what?

I couldn’t help it; I lunged.

As he held me, as I squeezed the life out of him, he chuckled.