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Besides, the way I’m feeling isn’t really about this latest example of why it’s hard for me to trust the motives of the guys who ask me out. It’s about Vaughn, the guy I need to let go.
Margo presses a full glass back into my hand and holds up her own.
“Okay, so let’s get to the good stuff. There are three guys, which one are you keeping and which ones do Cammy and I get?”
It’s easy to get pulled into the laughter with these girls, and soon enough, we’re ordering Thai food and cheesecakes. When Rux calls for my wuss brother—who is apparently back at Cammy’s place helping babysit—to find out how mad I am on a scale of walking into my room without knocking to breaking my new stick before the championship game at State… I hand my phone off to Margo. I didn’t realize she and Rux knew each other, but she’s laughing within seconds and asking him abouthisstick while Laurel and Cammy chime in from the background. Pretty sure the stick in question isnotthe one that got him the assist two days ago against the Blues.
Gross.
Pushing up from the floor, I head into my brother’s ultra-modern kitchen and pour myself a tall glass of water. The lights are off and it’s kind of nice to just stand here in the dark looking out over the sparkling cityscape.
“Hey, how you doing?” Julia asks, coming up beside me.
“Better than I was.” I hand her the glass I poured and fill another for myself. “Your husband is on my shit list, no question. But I’m prepared to let him live.”
She snorts, and it’s so at odds with the perfection of her classic beauty, I can’t help but laugh.
“Well, I appreciate it.”
I sigh, turning to her. “Sorry for barging in like a lunatic, but thank you for letting me stay. I needed a night like this more than I realized.”
Nodding toward the front room, she smiles. “There’s no one better than these girls. And I’m glad you stayed. I miss seeing you laugh.”
I give her a wan smile, but what can I say?
“Have you talked to him lately? Vaughn?”
I close my eyes, wondering how I can be surprised that Julia knows. “Greg told you?”
“Yeah, but I’d already figured it out.” Of course she had. It’s what she does. “Sorry I called him an asshole.”
Cutting her a look, I let out a chuckle. And when she holds out an arm, I don’t fight it. I take the hug I kind of desperately need and hold on. “He slugged your husband. You were entitled.”
She wants to know about Vancouver and what it was like when he first figured out who I was. I tell her about those early nights of fighting what quickly began to feel inevitable, and for a minute it feels like I’m there again, on the brink of something amazing. Something that feels so right…
Covering my eyes, I say what I’ve been trying to deny for too long. “I think I made a mistake.”
Chapter 23
Vaughn
Ishould get the fuck out of here. Not a news flash. I’ve been telling myself the same thing since I pulled up to Natalie’s place and started loitering on her stoop like a damn vagrant. No, not a vagrant—a stalker.
She’s got a date tonight.
A date with someone who could be serious. A guy Baxter likes and approves of. Someone she likes enough to be out with until two thirty in the morning.
Jesus.
Dates don’t last that long if they aren’t going well. If there isn’t something there. And even if there is, most restaurants, movies and bars aren’t open this late. My gut knots, and for a minute I can’t breathe. Because if she isn’t at any of those places and she isn’t here, then she went home with him.
I should go. Only there’s no fucking way I will. Not until I see with my own eyes that he’s better for her than I am.
Headlights slice through the darkness and I wait like I have the past dozen times, hoping it’s her, hating him.
The car stops at the curb—a limo—and my knuckles crack as I pray this cheesy, pretentious fuck doesn’t try to kiss her good night. That she doesn’t invite him in. I don’t even want to know what he looks like, what his name is, or how I could find him when I think about his hands on her. His mouth.Motherfucker, anything else.
But I have to.
