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“What makes you think I’m going to cut Brandon loose?”
Lita snickers while Matt rolls his eyes. “Please. Do we really need to have this conversation again?”
“What conversation?”
“What do you think is the longest you’ve dated anyone in the past twelve months?”
I don’t like where he’s going, but I lift my shoulder in a blasé shrug. “I have no idea.”
“Eighteen days,” he informs me. “Usually you don’t even give a man half that amount of time before you kick his ass to the curb.”
God, is he right? I’ve never kept track, but I doubt he’s far off the mark.
“I guess I’m not very good at dating,” I offer lamely.
“No kidding.” He smirks, but there is affection in his eyes. “You’re practically a monk, Avery. And why? With your looks and killer curves you could have your pick of any man in this city—and that was before you became the darling of the New York art world.”
“I’m sure you must have a point in there somewhere.”
“Yes, I have a point.” He eyes me in scrutiny. “How long can you actually go without thinking about him? I’m going out on a limb here, but I’ll bet it’s somewhere between one hour and eighteen days.”
“What does it matter?” He’s not talking about Brandon or anyone else I’ve dated recently, and I don’t pretend to misunderstand. “So, my social game sucks. That doesn’t mean it has anything to do with Nick. I’ve moved on. End of story.”
It’s a familiar refrain, a mantra I’ve used to galvanize myself for the better part of the past year. Until last night, I had almost believed it.
Now, I’m not sure what I think.
Are you happy, Avery?
Nick’s words come back at me for what isn’t the first time. Am I happy? It’s the one thing I haven’t focused on since we broke up. The one question I’ve refused to ask myself because I know I don’t want to hear the answer.
As always, he knows precisely how to cleave me closest to the bone.
“I’m over him,” I insist, ignoring the dubious looks I’m getting from both of my friends.
They may not believe me, but I mean it with every fiber of my being.
I’m over him because I have to be.
Maybe happy will come later. Right now, I just need to survive. I need to protect my heart.
And that means staying as far away as possible from Dominic Baine.
Chapter 4
Midtown traffic is a nightmare Friday night as Brandon and I, along with what seems like half the city’s dating crowd, jockey to get somewhere for dinner. He parks his Volvo at a public garage, assuring me that we’re less than two blocks from the restaurant.
“I hope you don’t mind the walk.” He casts me an uncertain glance. “I should’ve called about valet service at the restaurant or dropped you off first. Your feet must be killing you in those shoes.”
“I’m fine.” I step carefully in my new heels, doing my best to keep up with him while avoiding the grates and cracks in the concrete along the way. “I thought we were going to that steakhouse on Fifty-first?”
“Slight change of plans.” He smiles, excitement lighting his eyes. “Another opportunity came up a couple of days ago. I think you’ll like it. The steakhouse is perfectly nice, but I wanted to surprise you with something different tonight.”
“All right.” I don’t tell him that I hate surprises. Or, rather, I had hated them, before I met Nick. He taught me to enjoy a lot of things I never dreamed I would. Including a few that would probably light mild-mannered Brandon’s hair on fire. “How much farther is it?”
“We’re almost there.” He points up ahead of us, where a well-dressed crowd spills out to the sidewalk in front of a warmly lit restaurant. The buzz of excitement around the place is palpable even before we near it.
“Looks like a popular place.”
