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Twenty-Two
Sabrina had spent her third straight morning in a row at the gym with Luke. She was sad and upset and punishing herself. There was no other logical reason on this planet to do burpees.
Her body took the doled-out sets like a trooper, but that wasn’t really why she was working out so much. She was paying penance for believing for a single second that she could fall out of love with Flynn.
As Luke had told her this morning, “I knew that wouldn’t work.”
She’d slugged him in the arm and asked him why he’d let her do it, but he’d only shook his head and said, “Like you’d listen to me anyway.”
Unfortunately, he was right. Her stubborn nature had shown up at the wrong time—outshining her positive, Pollyanna attitude and leading her astray.
And when Flynn had demanded she keep seeing him, she’d dug in her heels and fought out of principle. He couldn’t tell her what to do, not when she was trying to stop loving him. Turns out she didn’t have to stop loving him, since Flynn probably hated her for leaving Monarch high and dry.
Okay, fine, he probably didn’t hate her. But he’d let her leave and that felt like the same thing.
She’d ended what they had so that they could be friends, but she’d lost him altogether. Couldn’t he see she was trying to help both of them?
“By keeping your feelings to yourself,” she grumbled as she hooked her purse on her shoulder.
Gage had asked her to meet him at Brewdog’s for a cup of coffee. The hip café was a block from her house. She’d told him no but then he’d begged, saying he had a work problem that only she could solve. “The outsourcing Flynn hired, Sab, they’re a nightmare. Don’t leave me hanging. This project is too important.”
Outsourcing that was her fault because she’d walked out without notice. She’d felt too guilty to say no again. Besides, she would like to go back to work eventually. After however long a cooling period she and Flynn needed before they rekindled their friendship.
They had to rekindle their friendship. Living without him in her life was miserable. Monarch Consulting had given her a sense of meaning and purpose. She wasn’t so stubborn that she didn’t recognize that Flynn was a very big part of that. He was important to her, and she’d just have to woman up, convince her heart to accept that he wouldn’t fall in love with her back, and move on.
She could do it. She just hadn’t figured out how yet.
Outside, the spring rain fell in a light drizzle, but she didn’t bother with an umbrella since she’d worn her contacts instead of her glasses. She was as grumpy about the weather as she was about agreeing to help Gage. On the steam of her own bad attitude, she stepped into Brewdog’s and nearly plowed into a man picking up his coffees at the counter.
“Sorry.” She moved aside, but then her gaze softened on the most handsome face she’d ever seen.
Flynn’s.
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in one cheek.
“I’m...meeting Gage?” But even as she said it, she doubted Gage was here. This moment had setup written all over it.
“So am I.” Flynn’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “He called two minutes ago, asking me to grab his coffee for him since he was running late. I’m supposed to meet him—”
“At the table by the plant,” they said at the same time.
“Does one of those cups contain a salted caramel concoction?” she asked of her favorite indulgence.
“I knew that sounded off when he ordered it.” Flynn handed her one of the cups and they walked to the corner table by the plant, which was currently occupied by a British guy in sunglasses pretending to read a newspaper.
“Et tu, Reid?” she asked.
He lowered the paper and feigned shock. “What are you two doing here? No matter. You can have my table. I was just leaving.”
“Convenient,” she muttered.
Reid stood and kissed her forehead. “Miss you, Sab.”
That was sweet. The jerk.
She watched him leave and then she and Flynn sat across from each other, her stiffly, with her purse in her lap.
“You feel nothing for him when he pulls that charming shtick?” Flynn asked.
