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"Hey Mr. L." I focus back on Jace and nudge him lightly. "You should go. And good luck."
Looking me up and down, he pinches his lips together and nods. "Thanks. It was good seeing you again."
"You, too."
He opens his arms for a hug, and before I can consider what a monumentally bad idea it is, I go in willingly. It's almost as if I didn't have a choice. My face rests against his chest as he holds me close and I breathe in the smell of his cologne. It isn't until I remember the amount of make-up Charlotte put on me that I gasp.
I pull away, only to see a whole cheek mark of foundation all over his white shirt. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry."
I try to wipe it away, but it's only making it worse as he grabs my wrist and snickers. "It's fine." He bends down and kisses my cheek before bringing his lips to my ear. "You look better without it."
With that, he turns and walks toward his dad, and the two of them head out the door. Cameras flash and questions are shouted as he walks through the group of photographers and gets in the black SUV. When it pulls away, I sigh—already feeling that ache in my chest.
"Friend of yours?" Brad questions, looking a bit uncomfortable.
Friend. As if that word even begins to describe all that Jace London has been to me. "Something like that."
The hostess calls our name, and Brad puts his hand on my lower back as we head to the table, but it's not the same. Nothing is ever the same.
THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE DATE, I cannot seem to focus on anything except the one thing I should definitely not be focused on right now. Everything would be perfect, if it wasn't for Jace. The food is delicious. Brad is asking all the right questions. And he looks like the kind of guy I'd go for. But he's not.
He doesn't have hair I want to braid while he's sleeping, just to be tickled for it after he wakes up. He doesn't have eyes that make me feel like he sees right through to my soul. And he doesn't have a voice that could make me do anything he wants at any given moment.
Brad is everything I should want, wrapped with a pretty red bow, and I can see why Charlotte was so insistent on setting me up with him. She only wants what's best for me, and if I let myself, Brad probably could be exactly that. But I can't.
I just can't.
I don't want to.
Because the truth is, I gave my heart away years ago, and he's holding it hostage with no intentions to ever return it.
We finish our meals, and he pays the whole check regardless of how much I try to fight him on it. As we're ready to leave, he offers me his hand to help me up like a perfect gentleman, and it only makes me feel worse.
"I'm sorry," I tell him.
He shrugs. "I get it. I've had an ex or three. I know how it goes."
I feel bad. This guy was promised a date, and instead, all he got was a girl who can't seem to get her mind off her ex.
I was doing so well. I'd gone over a month without seeing him. I didn't even so much as call him. And all the text messages I typed out when I was feeling weak, they went unsent.
But tonight, seeing him again, brought me right back to that place. Just like it did when I saw him again in January. Just like every day over the years that I swore to myself I'd get over him. It's something I have no control over. Our fate was written in the stars.
SWINGING MY DOOR OPEN, I instantly collapse on my bed. Sometimes, it feels like crying is all I ever do anymore, but I can't help it.
I grip at my chest, trying to make the pain stop when a familiar voice grabs my attention. "You look like you could use a friend."
As if God answered my prayers, Becca stands in the doorway, looking like an actual angel. I put my arms out, and she crawls into my bed to hold me—no cares in the world if I get tears and snot all over her or not.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, holding her tight. "I thought you weren't coming home until next week."
She chuckles. "Well, when you told me you were going on a date, I figured I should probably get an earlier flight." She pulls away and looks down at me, seeing the makeup smeared all over my face. "Good thing I did, huh?"
A wet laugh leaves my mouth, and I shake my head. "How'd you know?"
It takes her a minute to talk, like she's choosing her words carefully. "Do you remember when we got to SCU and you tried going out with that one guy?"
"Our RA."
