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“Are you out of your mind? I made a complete fool of myself!”

“I don’t think so, Krys,” she replied. “I mean, really—the guy came back to see you the very next day. He was concerned about how you were doing, asked you a bunch of personal questions, made a crapload of sexual innuendos, and had a philosophical discussion on the fundamentals of control. If that doesn’t scream ‘I wanna screw,’ then I don’t know what does. Hell, the fact you are even talking about him tells me you want him, too.”

“You’re wrong, Ally,” I said and felt my face redden. Her ability to read me was scary.

“Oh my God! You’re blushing. You really do like him, don’t you?” she said, obviously stunned. It was time to rein her in before this conversation got out of hand.

“You are making way too much out of this. First of all, he didn’t make sexual innuendos. Well, maybe one,” I conceded. “I think the rest was mostly made up in my head. And secondly, his questions weren’t personal. They were completely platonic and work-related. Sure, maybe I wanted to strip him down right there in the middle of Wally’s, but it wasn’t like that for him. I’m certain his only concern was a potential lawsuit.”

She frowned at me.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re beautiful, Krys. I don’t know why you can’t see that. Is it so hard to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in more than just the bump on your head?”

“I think the guy has the potential to be a total control freak, Ally. Been there, done that—remember? I won’t make that mistake again.”

I remained quiet then and looked down at my plate. I was sure Allyson knew where my thoughts were heading, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, we ate our food in silence, and I prayed she wouldn’t bring up the forbidden subject of my past, the painful topic I avoided at all costs. I didn’t want to go there.

After several minutes had passed, she finally spoke.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this,” she began softly. “You have scars I can’t even begin to comprehend. But⁠—”

“You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it,” I stated.

“Honey, not every guy is like Trevor.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I just haven’t found the right guy yet,” I snapped irritably. I didn’t add that I hadn’t really been looking for Mr. Right either. Two years and more shrinks than I could count, and my wounds were still raw. A part of me worried I’d never be whole again. “Maybe I should just become a lesbian.”

“What?” Allyson frowned, obviously thrown.

“Nothing—just something Jim said earlier at work,” I muttered. Allyson looked at me quizzically but dismissed my comment with a shake of her head.

“Look, Krys. Acknowledging the fact Stone even exists should be a sign for you. It’s a sign you’re ready to move on. It’s time to get out there again. You haven’t dated anyone since you and Trevor broke up,” she reminded me.

“I’ve gone on dates!”

A few.

Allyson leaned back in her chair, folded her arms, and smirked.

“Name one guy that you’ve gone on more than two dates with since you and Trevor broke up.”

There were none. I knew she was right, but I still couldn’t help jumping on the defense. It certainly wasn’t my fault every guy I met wanted to get jiggy with it after only five minutes of conversation.

“Alexander Stone is probably one of the wealthiest men in New York. He’s way out of my league. He can choose any woman he wants—why in the world would he want me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The fact that he’s loaded means nothing. Right now, you have two years of celibacy talking for you.”

“I haven’t been celibate for two years! You forget about Bryce, the music guy. Remember him?”

“You can’t possibly be serious!” she said in exasperation.

I frowned at her, knowing she was right again. I couldn’t count the musician I went out with only once. Bryce was a futile attempt at fixing my shattered heart. He was my rebound after Trevor. A drunken one-night stand who never called me again. I wasn’t even entirely sure if Bryce was his real name, and I regretted that night still to this day.

“I don’t want to talk about Trevor or Bryce, Ally. And your outrageous imagination about Stone will just end up planting too many crazy ideas in my head. Trust me when I say I don’t need your help with that.”

I thought about the little devil that had been making quite a regular appearance on my shoulder as of late, putting all sorts of enticing images in my head.

Angels and devils? You’re really cracking up, Cole.