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Eleven
Oakley
Hamilton was nice.
Okay, well, most females would say he was hot.Sexy.A great catch.
I was struggling to stay interested.Maybe I was broken.Why else would I be forcing a smile while carrying a cup of black coffee to the tall, muscular, successful, blond underwear model?Something had to be wrong with me.Right?
As I entered my living room, he turned from the television show he was watching to me and smiled.He made a lot of money with that smile.Most women swooned over that face of his.Yep, I was defective.That was all there was to it.
“You sure I can’t get you something stronger than coffee?”I asked him as I approached and held out the cup for him to take.
“I can’t.Alcohol makes me retain water, and I have a shoot tomorrow, where I’ll be in nothing but briefs.”
Don’t roll your eyes, Oakley.Do not do it.
I held up my glass of merlot.“Well, cheers anyway.”
With a low, amused chuckle, he tapped his cup against my glass, and then I took a long drink of the smooth red wine.This was our fourth date since the blind date when we had doubled with Daphne and Tanner.Tonight, I had made dinner for us, following Hamilton’s strict diet, due to his next week of photo shoots.It was bland and boring, but he’d raved about the boiled chicken and steamed broccoli as if it had been gourmet.
“You don’t talk much about yourself.We’ve been out four times now, and yet I know very little about you.I know you have your own Etsy store, that you are very close to your niece and text her regularly, that you volunteer at the animal shelter, and you look amazing in a bikini.Tell me something I don’t know,” Hamilton said as he leaned back on my sofa.
I had tried to keep the conversation off me and more on him.Most men with his looks had an ego and liked talking about themselves.He was no exception.I knew where he had gone to high school, his basketball scoring record, his short-lived college career, even his mother’s maiden name.I didn’t mind.I preferred he talk than me tell him things.If he was talking, then I could sit and pretend like I cared.It was cold and indifferent.I knew that, but then I was damaged.He just hadn’t realized it yet.
Trying to think of something to say that would interest him but not give away anything about my past, I almost sighed in relief when my text message alert went off.It was the sound Sarah had chosen for herself in my phone.I smiled and pulled out the phone tucked in my pocket and set my wine on the coffee table.
“Speaking of my niece,” I said to him, then looked down at my phone.
Dad has to go out of town for two days, and he won’t ask you to come stay.He said he had it handled with Ms.Maynard.
Asshole.Why was he being difficult?I had done a great job taking care of her when he was gone last month.It had been three weeks since I’d seen her, and I was missing that sweet face.
I’ll call him.
She immediately texted back.
He will be mad.He wasn’t happy about my room.
My hand tightened on the phone.
The mural?I thought it turned out great!
“Is there a problem?You look upset,” Hamilton asked, reminding me he was there.
I glanced up at him.“Just my ex-brother-in-law being a complete bastard.”
My phone lit up with a text again.
He said you should have asked him.
Asked him if I could help fix Sarah’s room to show her personality instead of leaving her with sterile walls?What was his issue?Did he seriously still hold the past against me?I had put his betrayal behind for Sarah’s sake.Why couldn’t he move on from mine?
I’m not scared of Wilder.I will call him.
There was a pause, and then dots appeared on the screen that said she was replying.
Thank you.I miss you and love you.
