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“Mustard’s in the door if you’re looking for it.”
I almost bark out a laugh. There she goes again, getting in my fucking head. I grab it and spin around.
“What?” she asks with a smile.
“Nothing.” I shake my head while constructing my meal at the counter but almost drop everything when my gaze lands on her in one of my shirts. She looks comfortable—she looks good in it. Shit, I never want to see her in anything else.
I set everything down and avert my gaze to the counter, staring at the bread, meat, lettuce, cheese, onions, pickles, and various condiments...What was I doing again?I run a hand over my face. This attraction is getting on my nerves.
I clear my throat and untie the bread bag. “How were things while I was gone? Any issues?”
“Just the high shelves.” She leans over the counter on her elbows and rests her face in her hands. “Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but I ground up all your coffee and put it in the freezer.”
I chuckle. “Aren’t you funny.” When I glance down, my eyes stop at her chest; she’s not wearing a bra. This is hell.
She peers down at the shirt. “Oh, hope you don’t mind I borrowed this? I wore all the clothes I had in my bag and needed to do laundry. You said I could raid your closet.”
Finally, I look up at her eyes.
“Yeah, I did. I was just, uh, surprised you found that one, I thought I’d lost it.”Nice save, dumbass.
“Oh, it was in the drawer on the left, right on top.”
I can’t let her wear my shit if this is the reaction I will have.I need some serious boundaries.
“Funny. Hey, have you been in contact with your parents or Bryan?”
“No.” The smile on her face falls. “Every time shit goes sideways, there’s a PR person there to pick up the pieces and tie it up in a neat little bow. If I told my parents, they wouldcome home, and it would be this whole thing. I don’t want to ruin their time in Monaco. This is my problem. I need to deal with it. Maybe it’s because of the way things ended with Bryan, but I really want to come back from this without someone else doing the work for me. I need to stand on my own two feet and say I overcame him.”
I can respect that, but she should still communicate what’s going on. “Don’t you think they should know the wedding is off?”
“Yeah, but it’s not only about the wedding. The more I think about it, the more I believe the institution of marriage is a total sham. I mean, look at my parents. They’re cordial, but there’s no romance. So, what’s the point? Money? Status? I have enough money already. I don’t need status. I’d rather live happily alone than be like them and live a parallel life with someone under the same roof. Makes me wonder how many other marriages are that way. Am I letting all the love stories in books and movies cloud my judgment? I mean, I’ve never seen a Nicholas Sparks marriage, have you?”
“Yeah, I have.” She pauses and cocks her head to the side and smirks, like she’s trying to call my bluff. I continue, “My teammates are obsessed with their wives. Lonan and Birdie. Rhys and Micky. Barrett and Raleigh...”
“You’re only hearing what they tell you. It’s a facade.” She rolls her eyes.
“No, it’s not.” I scoff. “They have the real deal. I’ve seen it. They love each other when no one’s watching.”
“And what about your parents?”
I drop the knife back in the jar of mustard and open the container of sliced deli meat.
“My bio dad was an abusive asshole. I’ve seen what that kind of marriage looks like, but I’ve seen the other side too. My stepdad, Bruce, and my mom are in love. They’redisgusting together. I’ve never seen two people more into each other. They’re best friends. He treats her with respect, he’s never told her how to live her life, never raised his voice with her, and he looks at her in a way my father never did. Bruce worships her.That’show it’s supposed to be, Jordan. Respectfully, your family is fucked up. As trite as it is, they are proof money can’t buy everything.”
“Traitor. I thought you were on my side.” She sits and watches me build my sandwich before getting off her barstool and coming around to my side. “Move over, I want one.”
As she extracts two slices of bread, she speaks as if she’s defending herself. “My parents are good people, they just prioritize their life differently. Bryan’s parents are the same—neither one of us had a healthy marriage to model after. I left, and my life is still a mess.”
I drop down to her eye level, and she looks up from tearing lettuce. “But it’s less messy. You’re in control again.”
She nods, a frown on her face.
“It gets easier. Leaving is hard, but it’s worth it.” And she’s so fuckin’ worthy of finding true love, whether she believes it exists or not. She’s a great girl, there’s no doubt in my mind she will find someone who’ll give her the book-worthy romance she speaks of.But it won’t be me.
“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Tell me something good. What are the three best things that happened to you today?”
Damn, she likes to deflect, but I don’t argue. “Hmm . . . three good things . . .”
