Page 72 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

The Ex: I’m leaving VB tomorrow. Can we please talk, Lila? I need to talk to you before I go. Please.

Instantly, my day was derailed. I hadn’t even had a chance to start thinking about an appropriate response yet when another text came through.

The Ex: You know I can see that you’ve read my message, right? Finally. Just meet me, Li. Please? The Ex: You owe me that. One coffee. That’s it.

The Ex: I’ll come to you. Wherever you are. Just send me an address.

Holy crap. What the heck is going on? Stressed and overwhelmed by the fact that he was now texting constantly, I finally snapped.

Me: Yeah, okay. Meet me at the coffee shop in the lobby of the Callahan Engineering Building.

I set the device down on my desk with a gentle tap that would’ve been a thud if I’d had my way. Inhaling a deep breath, I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. My heart was pounding, running two miles a minute as I pondered what the hell could be so urgent.

Ben texted again to tell me he was ten minutes away and I sighed but packed my phone and keys into my purse. Whatever this was about, I was eager to get it over with. After a quick trip to the ladies’ room, I headed downstairs and he was just walking in as I sat down.

Dressed in tailored beige slacks with his collar popped like a douche, his blond hair was slicked back and I found myself wondering how I’d ever been attracted to him. In comparison to Ford, Ben looked like a boy. A clean-shaven, spoiled brat of a boy who was too shiny to have any real presence.

He smiled when he saw me, but even his smile was too slick. Too smooth. Frankly, looking at it now, I realized that it wasn’t even real. It didn’t reach his eyes, didn’t light his face, didn’t do anything other than make him look slightly shark-like.

As I braced myself internally for whatever was coming, he cut across the busy lobbing and came right up to me. Not to my table or the chair waiting for him on the other side of it, but to me. He held my gaze as he bent over, brushing a kiss to my cheek and lingering with his mouth way too close to my face.

“It’s good to see you, Li. Thanks for agreeing to this.”

The scent of him washed over me, so familiar after so many years of sharing a bathroom that I should’ve felt at least a pang of nostalgia or something. Instead, I just felt uncomfortable.

That scent now reminded me of all the nights I’d gotten ready for bed alone, his products strewn all over our shared vanity, uncapped and simply discarded every morning once he’d used them. I’d felt like one of those products every damn morning when I’d woken up to an empty space where he should’ve been.

“Ben,” I said cautiously, pulling back and sending him a tight, polite smile. “I’ve only got a few minutes before I have to get back to work. What’s going on?”

He eased away and dropped into the chair next to mine at the little round table instead of going to sit across from me like a normal person might’ve. Another slow, slick smile spread across his lips and he leaned forward, putting his face only about two feet away from mine.

“I’ll get straight to the point, then,” he said. “I made a mistake, Lila. You and I were going somewhere. We were meant to be together and I’m sorry I didn’t realize that before, but I would really like to try again.”

“You know, I thought it might be something like this,” I said, scooting back in my chair and moving it a few inches to the side for good measure. “You didn’t make a mistake. We weren’t meant to be and the only reason you suddenly feel like we are is because I moved out. You don’t miss me, Ben. You miss having someone waiting for you at home when you get there.”

He scoffed, not looking hurt but angry. “No, that’s not⁠—”

“Yes, it is,” I said firmly but quietly. “You don’t want me back. You just don’t like that I’ve moved on.”

“Is this about your new boyfriend?” he snapped, his features tightening into a scowl that might’ve been intimidating before I’d met Ford, but now, it just seemed childish. “He’s not the one for you. I am.”

“I’m not talking to you about him. Our breakup was a good thing. It was the right thing for both of us. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“We’re not leaving it at anything until you agree to come home with me. That’s where you belong, Lila.” His eyes narrowed and there wasn’t a single glimmer of either love or even fondness in them. He was digging in his heels simply because he hadn’t liked my answer. “I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you, first with all that bullshit about art school and becoming a designer, then moving, now dating some asshole who looks like a bodyguard. This isn’t you, Lila. Come back to New York with me and we’ll get you the help you need.”

“You think I need help?” My eyebrows shot up. “I’m happy, Ben. I’m finally doing what I feel like I was meant to do all along instead of just going along with what everyone else wanted me to do. Art school isn’t bullshit and neither is wanting to become a designer.”

I pulled my purse into my lap and left money for the coffee I’d ordered but hadn’t even received yet. “Thanks for the chat, but we’re over. We’ve been over. You being butt-hurt because I’m not reacting the way you wanted me to doesn’t give you the right to insult me.”

Exasperation tightened his features. “I’m not insulting you, Li. All I’m doing is looking out for you. You up and left five minutes after we had a preliminary conversation about⁠—”

“A preliminary conversation?” I scoffed and pushed my chair back, looking him right in the eyes as even the lunch-time buzz of the lobby faded into the background. “It wasn’t a preliminary conversation, Ben. You told me that you were sorry, but you didn’t feel like we were going anywhere and it was better for both of us if we just broke up, then you refused to talk about it when I asked you to, then you told me to pack my shit and get out of your apartment.”

He rolled his eyes. “You took all that way too personally.”

I sighed as I stood up. “Well, then please feel free to take this just as personally. Pack your shit and get out of my city. We’ve been over for months and coming here with this attitude really is just selfish and immature. Goodbye, Ben. Don’t contact me again.”

Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I turned and walked away, the click of my heels against the tile floor carrying a finality I couldn’t quite put into words. I went back to my office, pulling out my phone and blocking his number before I deleted it.