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“Hmm. Is it possible you haven’t met the right one yet?”
“No. I’m convinced they all end up the same.”
“So which one am I?” I asked.
“I haven’t figured it out yet. But you do want something from me.”
Yes, yes I did. She was right about that. I wanted several somethings, in fact, starting with a kiss that wasn’t running on a five-second timer. I wanted to kiss her as long as I fucking wanted, but that was just scratching the surface. But I also wanted more than that. I wanted to help her heal, because she was clearly hurting. I also wanted to hunt down all the assholes who hadn’t treated her right and push them off bridges. Pearl deserved better than those assholes. She definitely deserved better than me.
“Well,” I sighed. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Far be it for me to change your mind.”
“Oh, come on. You were in the exact same situation as me. We both got cheated on. I’m guessing that wasn’t the first ugly breakup in your past, either. So please, tell me with a straight face that you believe in relationships.”
I grinned. “You say it like relationships are in the same category as Santa Claus or The Keebler Elf.”
“First of all, the Keebler Elf is a cartoon made to sell cookies. He’s not even in the same category as Santa. And no, I just mean you swore off women, too. So, if you think I’m wrong, then why aren’t you dating anymore?”
“Because I swore myself to you, obviously.”
She gave me one of those dry looks she had down to a science. “Be honest with me or I’m turning out the lights.”
I grinned. “Ohh. You sound like my camp counselor from middle school. Are you going to tell me to stop shitting on the toilet seats next? And for the record, everybody knew that was creepy Carl.”
“Dean,” she warned.
I let out a breath. I wasn’t exactly sure why I was trying so hard to avoid her question. “Alright. I guess it’s not that I don’t trust women. Don’t take this the wrong way, but it sounds like you’re blaming men for the failure of your relationships. I guess I agree. Because I blame myself, too. I’m the problem. I find a way to fuck it up eventually, so at some point I guess I don’t see what the point in bothering is.”
“How was Annabelle cheating your fault?”
“Well,” I said, thinking back. “She had been complaining that I didn’t ‘see’ her. I guess I was too caught up with work.”
Pearl nodded, as if she understood me fully from that one little detail. “I see. So you’re the workaholic type?”
“Hardly. But she wanted to go out the night before she cheated. I had a meeting with a new client that I couldn’t cancel. I told her we could go another night, but she didn’t get it. She felt like I was blowing her off and went without me.”
“She was cheating on you for weeks. I heard as much from Eric.”
“Oh,” I said. “Still. It was probably something else I did.”
“That’s bullshit. Cheating was her choice. I don’t care how shitty of a boyfriend you were. She could’ve just broken things off if she was unhappy. Cheating is a loser’s escape exit. It’s jumping out of a moving car and letting it crash into an orphanage instead of staying behind the wheel to put on the brakes.”
“Wow. Vivid.” I chuckled.
Pearl looked like she was pissed on my behalf, which was cute, but she let the anger drain from her face and grinned back at me.
“I’m still bitter, if you can’t tell. Eric was the first guy to ever cheat on me. And the last,” she added with a determination I couldn’t help but see as badass.
“Well, here’s to never letting anybody cheat on us again.” I lifted my little clear mini cup I’d taken from the bathroom sink. It was a quarter full with water and I extended it toward Pearl. She glanced at it, snorted a laugh, and tapped it with the edge of her paperback.
“Here’s to that. Now go to sleep. And if you try anything, I’ll make you regret it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, hoping I was lying. A dream about crossing the forbidden line between us and having a little fun for the first time in over six months? Yeah. I wouldn’t turn that dream away if it came knocking.
14
PEARL
I expected to wake up with Dean strutting around the room doing naked yoga or something. Or maybe that was just the dream I’d had confusing me. But instead, I didn’t see him anywhere. His side of the bed was a rumpled mess and his little cup of water was empty, but the big man himself was gone.
I carefully peered through the frosted glass of the bathroom, hoping I wasn’t going to see something that would haunt me. Nothing.
