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Not wanting to even look at him and his sad face, I did the same thing I'd done to Josh several months ago. I grasped his shoulders and forced him to turn, giving him a little push towards the exit.
Thank goodness he took the not-so-subtle hint, and he slowly walked through the living room, his head hanging low. Oh, boy, it was honestly kind of pathetic. Why on earth was I feeling sorry for him when he'd been the one to screw up?
Right in front of the door, he glanced back at me, his eyes full of misery. "I'm sorry," he said so quietly I almost didn't hear him. "I really fucked up, and I'll regret it the rest of my life."
Oh, God, dramatic much? "No, you won't," I said in a hurry. I was so damn close to my own shower and time with Josh. "Listen, you'll get over it. You'll find another woman. You'll be happy. And you'll know better than to cheat ever again, right? Right?"
He nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath in through his nose. "Right. Never again."
"See? It was a learning experience. For both of us, honestly. I learned..." My voice trailed off because it really wasn't his business what I had learned. "So chalk it up to life lessons. And you'll treat the next girlfriend better. Okay?"
Again, he gave me a nod, and I just couldn't wait any longer. Seeing Devon had given me the closure I didn't know I needed. I reached past him and turned the knob, opening the door wide for him to leave. Please leave.
"Thank you, Jess," he said, "for talking to me and for not kicking me in the balls like I deserved."
That made me smile as he turned to leave.
I didn't waste any time. A second after I locked the door behind him, I stripped and stepped into the shower, confident that Josh was done and I wouldn't affect his water pressure.
Wow, what the hell had just happened? I could hardly believe that Devon had been here, hoping to get back together. I mean, that was absolutely, positively, insanely crazy. Did he not know me at all?
God, I had seriously dodged a bullet with that one. Like seriously.
If I had any doubts, they would have been squelched immediately because when I saw Devon, I felt nothing. Just nothing. Not lust or love. Not even anger. Just a blank nothingness. And it was so strange to feel that way after two years of loving on him so hard.
As I rushed through my shower—thank goodness I'd had the foresight to shave this morning—I realized the significance of that blank feeling.
It meant I was completely over Devon.
But it also told me something else. All my feelings were now with Josh. I wanted him. Only him. Desperately. And I couldn't wait to tell him that.
With that thought, now I really raced through my shower and started getting ready. Rushing to the bedroom, my eyes darted around frantically for some decent undies and at least a somewhat matching bra.
Somehow, having everything strewn about made it easier to find what I wanted. Wondering what else to wear, it dawned on me that I should put on those little, tiny Dodgers shorts that Josh had bought me. Something told me he might like those.
A flutter went through my stomach at the thought. If I had my way tonight, Josh would no longer be celibate. Too bad I'd already lost that bet.
With wet hair that acted like my own personal air conditioner in this heat, I soon ran up Josh's steps, anxious to see him and pretty much attack him. This time, I had a gut feeling that he wouldn't say no.
I quickly knocked on his door, breathless with anticipation. Hearing movement inside, I braced myself, and my heart began to beat faster, reminding me of a ticking clock counting down the last seconds of a game.
This was it. The big moment. The score was tied, bases were loaded, down to the last out.
Finally, I was ready to tell Josh how I felt about him.
But as I stood there on Josh's landing, a warm breeze tousling my hair, those seconds just kept ticking by, and my heart started to hurt, my chest squeezing.
Josh wasn't going to answer his door. The fall down from my mountain of excited anticipation was devastating.
