Page 174 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Just little things,” she said, picking at the fabric of her dress. “After we broke up, I started to look back and really think about the compromises I made along the way, you know? I should have noticed how easy it was for him to dismiss my feelings when they got in the way of him doing what he wanted. Specifically, the way he flirted with other women.”

“He did that while you were together?”

“Oh, all the time. I told him it made me uncomfortable, and he just laughed it off and said I was overreacting—that it wasn’t like he was going behind my back or actually fooling around with anyone, so that made it okay. But it wasn’t okay with me, and I should have stood my ground.”

At least that was a point for me. Despite the fact I’d broken her heart, one thing I could say without a doubt was that I’d never even looked at another girl the whole time I was with her. Everyone else faded in comparison, anyway.

“Honestly, my first warning sign should have been our first date, when we went to homecoming together.”

I grimaced. “How’d that go?”

She tossed her head back with a wry smile, as if she finally had enough distance to see the humor in something that had been pretty awful at the time. “He’d already made plans to go with another girl, just as friends he assured me, before we started dating. And instead of telling that other girl he couldn’t take her anymore since he now had a girlfriend, he ended up taking us both.”

“Oh, God. He didn’t?”

Cora nodded. “He did. And I can assure you it was deeply awkward for everyone involved.”

I pressed my fist to my lips, hiding my pained smile. “I’ll bet.”

“He actually took turns slow dancing with us. During the same song!”

I dropped my head in my hands, groaning, imagining Cora standing on the dance floor, arms crossed, waiting for her thirty seconds of Levi’s attention. I wasn’t even angry at the guy anymore. It was all too absurd.

“But, you know,” Cora continued, “I made excuses for him, choosing to believe he was just trying to be a good guy—that he’d kept his promise to be the other girl’s date because he didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“He probably didn’t want to have a hard conversation with the other girl about canceling their plans, so he took the coward’s way out,” I said.

“Or worse,” Cora said. “Maybe he wanted to string her along in case our date didn’t work out.” She let out a heavy breath. “Probably should have seen this whole Sally thing coming from a mile away.”

I ran my hand up the soft skin of her forearm. “He sucks, Cora. On so many levels. I’m sorry your homecoming dance was crap. I really wish I’d been the one to take you,” I said softly, putting as much sincerity into my words as I could. “I would have made sure you had a good time. That it was a night you’d never forget, and not because your boyfriend brought another date.” She looked at me, a hint of regret in her eyes. I nudged her gently, getting to my feet. “C’mon.”

“What are you doing?”

“We are making up for that horrendous slow dance you just told me about.”

“Aiden?” She chuckled uncertainly. “Here?”

I held my hand out, waiting for her to take it. “Where else?”

“You know there’s a DJ inside, right? He’s being paid lots of money to get people on the dance floor.”

“You really want to go back into that gym right now?” I cocked my head to the side. “With Levi stinking up the place?”

That got a bit of a smile out of her. She laid her palm in mine, and I tugged her to her feet, leading her down the stairs and onto center field. Last time I’d stood out here, I’d been a high school wide receiver, watching the clock run down as we beat the Rams by a single touchdown. The crowd had jumped to their feet, the stands trembling under the force of their stomping. Now the empty stands stood like dark hills against the blue-black sky, nothing but the faint school lights in the distance and the smattering of stars that were starting to appear overhead.

“Okay, so⁠—”

“One second,” I said, reaching into my pocket. I pulled out my phone, and with a few quick taps, music filtered through the speaker. I adjusted the volume a couple notches before putting my phone back in my pocket, letting the music play.

“Wait.” Cora said. “Is this…” She let the intro play through. “Is this Lifehouse?”

A smile tugged at my lips as the opening chords stirred fond memories. “You and Me,” I said. “It was one of the top songs from back then, right?”

“Back then. God,” Cora groaned. “You make us sound so old.”

“We’re a little old.”

“Speak for yourself.” She laughed. “I’m younger than you.”