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I made dagger-eyes at her. “I was planning to stuff myself on popcorn and spend the rest of the night with Ben and Jerry’s.”
“The only two men in your life at the moment, right?” She rolled her eyes.
The only ones who count, anyway. No one could produce a better Cherry Garcia. I could fight to the death for that stuff.
I looked back once more, but the man was gone.
Heck, why did I feel so disappointed? And here I was, trying to get popcorn out of my clothes for him.
I cursed myself for thinking instant love could ever be a thing, especially for me. I didn’t even like reading that shit in books.
Nope, I was all for the old-worldtime will tellromance of Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester, and Darcy and Lizzie. But even they had an instant attraction, didn’t they?
Why couldn’t it happen for me, just once?
A frustrated sigh escaped my lips and, my head still turned away, I propelled myself from the bar stool and collided against someone’s shoulder.
This shoulder definitely didn’t belong to Chelsea.
“Hey.” I scowled, whipping my head around and immediately drowning in an ocean of sea-green.
“Hey.” He smiled and raised his glass at me.
Oh, it’s Mr. Too Good to be Truefrom the other corner of the bar.
My mind felt like it was stuck in reverse.
He knitted his brows and gave me a lopsided grin that wrenched my heart.
Electricity. That’s what ran up my spine.
“I—”
Before I knew what I was doing, I was running out of the bar, Chelsea following close behind.
“Wait,” she called out, scrambling to keep up with me. “Wait, Rory!”
I didn’t stop until I was inside the car.
She glowered at me when she finally caught up. “What on earth, Ro? What was that about?”
I breathed rapidly.
Three-two-five-nine.
Three-two-five-nine.
As always, repeating the numbers, slow and sure, returned a semblance of sanity.
Why had I run?
I didn’t know, except I wasn’t ready to feel how that man made me feel.
It got me thinking there was hope for me. That I wasn’t doomed to die alone in a room surrounded by empty ice cream tubs, the TV set to my hundredth repeat watch ofBridget Jones.
I couldn’t risk ruining that fantasy for something much more unlikely to happen.
Life had taught me that love didn’t work. It never had. It just sounded pretty in books.
