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“Have dinner with me tonight?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Hunter pouted. “You’d leave me all alone on my thirtieth birthday?”
“Something tells me you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be. I bet you could snap your finger and get a date. In fact, why don’t you have a girlfriend, Mr. Delucia? What’s wrong with you?”
“Why does something have to be wrong with me because I don’t have a girlfriend? I’m guessing you don’t have a boyfriend, since you kissed me this afternoon. Does that make something wrong with you?”
“Ummm…. First off, you kissed me. I didn’t kiss you. Second, I don’t have a boyfriend, or that kiss wouldn’t have happened, no matter who started it. And third, yes, there’s something wrong with me.”
Hunter stopped in his tracks. It might’ve been dark, but I could see legitimate concern on his face. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m divorced at twenty-eight. My ex-husband is in federal prison. I have full custody of a fifteen year old who isn’t mine and doesn’t particularly care for me. I just borrowed twenty grand I’ll never be able to pay back from my mother to cover an overpriced high school so said fifteen year old will hate me less. Should I go on?”
“Do you abuse pets?”
“Pets? Of course not.”
“Do you kick people when they’re down?”
“No.”
“Have you ever committed a robbery, arson, murder, or assault?”
“Never.”
“Then there isn’t anything wrong with you that can’t be fixed.”
“What if I don’t want to be fixed?”
“Then that’s good. Because I don’t want to fix you.”
“You don’t?”
Hunter shook his head. “I just want to fuck you—make you forget what’s broken for a while.”
“You’re really vulgar.”
“Maybe. But I’m honest. I don’t know what your deal is with your ex, but I’m guessing the reason you’re leery of men has to do with him not being so honest.”
Of course, he was right—Garrett had cut me deep. Trust was like glass. When it broke, it shattered, and even if you managed to glue it all back together again, there were always fissures. It was never as strong as when it was whole.
“How about if we go out to dinner for your birthday as friends—no expectations of sex. We’ll just share a nice meal and call it a night. I’ll even pay for dinner.”
“Fine. But you’re not paying for dinner. That’s a deal breaker. I pay for dinner, or you can find someone else to not have sex with after the meal.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Extending my hand, I said, “You drive a hard bargain, birthday boy. It’s a deal.”
Hunter took my hand to shake, but then used it to yank me flush against him. He kissed my forehead. “I drive lots of things hard. And just because I agreed to no sex doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for another round of kissing and dry humping.”
“I can’t wait.” I laughed as if I was joking, but there was a lot of actual truth in my statement.
***
Caroline Margaret Weiner was born at 3:47 a.m., after eighteen hours of labor. I’d watched plenty of movies where the new dad runs out in his blue scrubs and says the baby is born, but actually being part of that in real life was nothing short of magical. Derek had the blue paper mask and hat on when he walked out with his eyes full of tears.
“It’s a girl.”
