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“Damn, girl,” I say, a note of appreciation clear in my voice. There’s something sexy about a girl who knows how to drink.
“Sorry, I just…” she shrugs. “Needed it, I guess.”
“Don’t apologize. What happened…” I shake my head, refilling her glass. “It’s a shitty thing to do. You didn’t deserve it.”
Just thinking about it has me angry all over again; I can’t even begin to imagine how she must feel. I seriously don’t understand guys like that. If you want to screw around, by all means, but be honest with the person you’re hooking up with.
“I just feel so dumb.” Vanessa looks away, but not before I can see her eyes filling with tears. She sniffs softly. “I spent eight years of my life on that man.Eight years.” She takes a long sip of her drink, her words ringing in the quiet space. “And sure, we had our issues, but to get engaged to somebody else before he even had the decency to break up with me?” She looks up, those big brown eyes swimming with unshed tears. And something else. A fire. Good. I can take her anger, but I’m not sure I’d be able to take her tears. “Who does that?”
“Assholes.” I lean my arm over the back of the couch, turning so I’m facing her. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it? Maybe if…”
“Maybe nothing,” I place my hand over hers, my words coming out harsher than intended. “It’s not your fault that he couldn’t keep it in his pants and didn’t know how to appreciate what he already had.”
Who the fuck dates for eight years anyway? If I had somebody like Vanessa, I’d tie that shit down as soon as possible. She was a total package. Even with puffy, red-rimmed eyes, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s funny and sexy as hell, but most importantly, she’s kind. The kids in the community center loved her and respected the hell out of her.
“It’s all about him, not you. You did nothing wrong.”
“I—” Vanessa’s throat bobs as she swallows, a tear falling down her cheek. “Thanks, Quinn.”
“No thanks needed,” I rasp, the silence falling over us.
I curl my fingers around my glass and take a sip just as she finishes her second drink—the liquid bites as it slides down my throat, leaving a burning feeling in its wake. I shift on the couch, trying to find a better position, but it does the opposite. My knee touches her leg, and a zap of electricity goes through my limbs at the contact.
Vanessa must feel it, too, because her lips part, those big brown eyes looking up at me.
Finishing off my drink, I jump to my feet. “I know what would make you feel better.”
“Apart from alcohol, you mean?” As if to confirm that, she takes the bottle and pours two fingers into both our glasses before taking a healthy sip from hers.
Damn, if she doesn’t slow down, she’ll get drunk. Then again, maybe that’s her idea. Besides, who the hell am I to judge?
“Apart from alcohol, although there’s more than enough of that too.”
She quirks her brow at me. “What?”
“Ice cream.”
“I won’t say no to ice cream.” She shifts on the couch. Slipping out of her sandals, she pulls her legs under her, smoothing her hand over the skirt of her dress. My eyes linger on her smooth skin for a heartbeat longer than necessary, wondering how it would feel under my touch.
Stupid, fucking asshole indeed.
Shaking my head to clear my mind from the thoughts I shouldn’t be contemplating, I go to the kitchen. I open the freezer, and the cold air hits me in the face. For a moment, I just stand like that, letting the icy air cool my inhibitions.
She just broke up with her long-term boyfriend. The last thing she needs is for you to be all over her.
Thankfully the ice cream is still in the freezer. I open the box, ‘cause knowing my roommates; it could entirely be empty. Thankfully, it’s not, although Nate clearly had his big paws in it.
“Do you need a bowl?” I yell so she can hear me.
“I’m fine sharing if you are.”
This is such a bad idea.
But do I grab the bowls anyway? Hell, no.
Pulling open the drawer, I grab two spoons and go back to the balcony, taking my place on the couch.
