My Rules (Kingston Lane Book 2)
My Rules: Chapter 13

I sit at the table and wait, and as always, he’s going to be late.

This is John.

I’m over his power plays. I’m over the way he does things, and more than anything, I’m over this marriage.

I sip my coffee as I go over my options. I know I have to do this, and even though I don’t want to, I know it’s for the right reasons.

If this Foot Finder thing has taught me anything, it’s that I can look after the house by myself, even if I don’t sell pictures every day or even every week. When I do have something go well, I just need to bank it for a rainy day.

He was wrong. I can do this alone.

So today I’m making a deal with the devil, literally.

I’m going to agree to not divorce John for five years. Of course, I’m going to try and get it down to three years, but regardless of the terms and situation, I need him to sign the house over to me.

The café doors open, and John walks in like the rock star that he thinks he is. He smiles and waves and makes his way over to me. “Hello, my beautiful wife,” he sings.

I look at his lying face and arrogant persona and wonder what I ever saw in this man. In fact, I want to vomit in my own mouth. He makes me sick.

He sits back, all powerful-like. “You wanted to see me.”

No, I didn’t. I want my house, fucker, and you’re going to give it to me.

“I’ve been thinking about your offer of signing the house over to me,” I say.

“I thought you may have.”

“And . . .” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “I’m willing to agree to no divorce in exchange for you signing the house fully into my name.”

He smiles and takes my hand over the table. “This is for the best, babe.”

I’m not your babe.

I want to rip my hand from his grip. I want to throw my drink in his face. I want to turn the table over and scream to the demons from hell to come and drag him back down.

But I won’t. Why? Because just like him, maybe I’ve turned into the darker version of myself, and I’ll do anything that I can to get that house in my name, even be nice to this prick.

“Okay, so let’s get this straight. I say you will sign the house over to me if I agree not to divorce you for three years.”

“Five years.”

“Five years is too long, John.”

“That’s the deal. Do you want the house or not?”

My eyes hold his, and damn it, how did I ever love this monster? “I do.”

“Great. I’ll get the paperwork signed and the house over to you.”

“Thank you.”

He squeezes my hand in his. “We’re going to get through this, baby.”

“How long do you think the contract will take to do?” I ask.

“I’ve already had a lawyer working on it, so it won’t be long. A week, tops.”

Ugh . . . he knew I was going to sign it.

Keep calm.

“Okay, that’s great.” I contemplate saying the next thing because it goes against everything I agree with, but it is true. “Thank you, John. I appreciate it.” He doesn’t have to sign the house over to me, but I know that deep down, he knows I could never afford to buy him out and that this is the right thing to do.

“Can we have dinner on Saturday night?” he asks.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

His eyes search mine. “Do you know how much I miss you?”

“John, don’t.”

“Some nights, I wake up in the middle of the night and feel like I can’t breathe because I miss you so much.”

I know that feeling well. I’ve suffered the same affliction. The lump in my throat begins to hurt.

Now those feelings of dependency on John have been replaced by another man.

As much as I hate to admit it, I think I have feelings for Blake Grayson, and I don’t know what to do with them. I’m completely bewildered by the entire thing. It sneaked up on me, and I don’t even know if it’s real or a crush or what the hell it is.

I swore to never make the same mistake again, to never go for the same kind of man. And as much as I hate to admit it, if there’s any man in the world that bears a resemblance to the type of man John is, it’s Blake.

Anyway, that’s a different horror story for another day. I’ll worry about this horror story first.

“Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you with the contract?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Can we try and maybe meet back here next week for lunch?” I smile hopefully. “We will have lunch just to celebrate signing.”

He smiles, mistaking my kindness for a weakness. “That sounds great. I’ll bring the paperwork with me then.”

“Thank you.”

He stands and kisses my cheek, and for the first time since our separation, I think that one day I’ll be able to look back on this divorce as a blessing. A lesson that I needed to be taught, and who knows, maybe it was written in the stars all along.

I walk out of the restaurant with my head held high. The house is going to be mine and mine alone.

I push out of the doors and into the cool air of the street. I want to jump in the air and punch it. But I won’t, because this is John, and until I get that contract signed in front of me and the house completely signed over to me . . . I can’t actually trust a word he says.

I walk up the front steps and knock on the door. Taryn’s smiling face comes into view. “You ready?” I ask.

“Just a minute; let me get my shoes.” She darts off, and Barry and I walk out and sit on the front steps. It’s a beautiful afternoon, and I have to admit that having the job of walking Barry every afternoon has made me exercise more. He’s been so naughty that he’s getting three walks a day now. I’ve walked more this week since I’ve had him than I have in the last twelve months.

Maybe I should get a dog of my own?

Taryn bounces down the stairs. “Let’s go.” She’s wearing gray tights and a matching sports bra; her stomach is cut, and her boobs are perfect. She looks incredible. I’m wearing a baggy T-shirt that has paint all over it and my old pants.

“I really need to make more of an effort. Look how gorgeous you look,” I tell her. “No wonder all the men look you up and down, Taryn. You’ve really got all your shit together.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” She sighs. “If I didn’t have my tits out all the time, no one would even look at me.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. You could wear a potato sack and still be killing it,” I tell her. We make our way down the road, and I have to ask a question that’s been burning a hole in my tongue. “Have you heard from Blake?” I ask.

“Why would I hear from Blake?” She takes Barry’s lead off me. “Let me hold him. I want to pretend I have a dog for a day.”

“You know, I thought that after you and Blake hooked up a couple weeks ago, he would have called you or something.”

“What are you talking about? I never hooked up with Blake.”

“I thought that night after Carol’s, you two got it on.”

“No.” She screws up her face in question. “Why on earth would you think that I hooked up with Blake?”

“Well, he had a huge hickey on his neck, and I thought you were the only one capable of doing it.” I smirk.

“Oh my god.” She rolls her eyes in disgust. “Trust me, I do not give men hickeys. I don’t want to remember it myself. Why would I leave evidence for the world to see?”

I laugh. “That makes sense, I guess.” I frown as a new thought comes through. “But if you didn’t hook up with Blake, who gave him the love bite?”

“No idea.” She thinks for a moment. “There was no one there that night but us.”

“Yeah, I know, very interesting,” I think out loud.

“Maybe it was Carol.”

“What the hell.” I laugh. “Why would it be Carol?”

“I saw Carol sneaking back into her house that night at about four a.m.”

I frown as I stare at her. “Sneaking back in from where?”

“I don’t fucking know.” She sighs. “Our street is getting out of control.”

I laugh in surprise. “I mean, if Carol is getting some action and I’m not, there is a serious problem around here.”

“You could have action if you wanted to have action.”

“As if. With who?”

“Open your eyes, you weirdo. Mr. Dr. Grayson is madly in love with you.”

“No, he’s not. He just told me that he wants to have a relationship with some fucking Kayla woman.”

“You’re an idiot if you let him go,” she huffs as we walk.

“What do you mean, let him go? I don’t have him in the first place to let him go.”

“Have you seen the way he looks at you? All he does whenever he’s around you is look after you, look out for you, run after you.”

I stare at her in confusion. “Do you think he likes me . . . as more than a friend?”

“I don’t think it, I know it.”

“Has he ever said anything to you?”

“He doesn’t have to; everybody just knows.”

I think on this for a moment as we walk. “Does anyone else think this or just you?”

“Everybody knows it. Blake Grayson has been madly in love with you since before your marriage even broke up. That’s why John hates him. John knows exactly how he feels.”

“I don’t know about that. We’re just friends.”

“Correction, Blake is your friend, but you’re Blake’s dream girl, and you’re being pretty fucking stupid if you ask me.”

“What do you mean?” I snap, offended.

“Because he’s gorgeous, and he’s rich, and he hangs on every word you say, and if you don’t open your eyes and see what’s right in front of you, some stupid bimbo is going to come in and sweep him off his feet and steal him right from underneath your nose.”

Her words hit a nerve, and I stop walking. “He’s never said anything to me.”

That’s a white lie; he did insinuate something that night he said he would ask for my number. But then he said he just wanted to have sex and to not get carried away.

“Have you ever asked him?” she says as we walk.

“No.” I shrug. “What if he doesn’t and I ask him? Then it will be super awkward between us, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Okay, I’m going to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Ask him if he likes you.”

“What? Just come out with it like that?”

“Why not?”

“Just be more, I don’t know . . . subtle.” I think for a moment. “Somehow casually work it into the conversation. Something like, ‘If you ever had a chance with Rebecca, would you take it?’”

“I’ll go over tonight and ask him.”

“No, not tonight. That’s too obvious. Just next time you see him.”

Taryn smirks as her eyes hold mine. “Why, do you like him?”

“No,” I scoff.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m interested to see what he says, that’s all.” I shrug. “I told you, he said that he likes some Kayla girl. He’s bringing her on the double date this weekend.”

“I call bullshit.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t like her, no way.”

“You think?”

“Okay, tomorrow night I’m going to go to his house. I’m going to ask him, and then I’m going to come straight over to yours after and tell you what he said.”

“You don’t mind?” I wince.

“Are you kidding? Matchmaking two of my neighbors is like a dream come true.”

“What’s going on with you and Ronald, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “Not really in a relationship with Ronny. I’m in a relationship with his dick.”

“Is it good?”

“It’s the best, which is becoming a real problem.”

“Why is that?”

“Because Ronny the man is annoying. Ronny’s donkey dick, however, is on point. And unfortunately, I can’t have one without the other. It’s like a double-edged sword. Great sex or great guy: it’s one or the fucking other. When am I ever going to replace a man who has it all?”

I smile. “I love you. You are so refreshingly honest.”

We walk in silence for a while.

“What are you going to do if he says that he does like you in that way?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” My eyes search hers. “I actually have no idea, but I do want to know who gave him that hickey.”

Taryn rattles on about Ronny while I troll my mind for an answer . . . Maybe my security camera picked something up from that night?

Hmm, I’m going to watch it back.

Blake

I look at the ball, and then I look at the hole and line up the two. I gently tap it in. “So who is this guy Bec’s going out with, anyway?” Antony asks.

“I don’t know, some loser. His name is Gregory.”

“I always think the name Gregory sounds like a cat.”

I give him the side-eye. “I never met a cat called Gregory.” I hit the next ball into the hole.

“I think if I ever had a cat, I would call it Gregory.”

I roll my eyes. “And you think about this how often?”

We continue taking turns putting.

“I’ve been doing some research, and I think I’ve narrowed it down to who Nooky Nights is.”

“Go on.” I pull the ball back with my putter and hit it again.

“One hundred percent Taryn.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask as I sip my beer.

“Well, who else is tapped enough to be talking about aliens with two cocks and double penetration?”

“This is true.” I think on this for a minute. “Although I imagine all women fantasize about getting fucked with two green cocks in both holes. I mean, what’s more forbidden than alien cock?”

“True. I mean, I would if I was them.”

“Same.”

“I’m going to ask her,” he says.

“Here’s your chance. She’s coming over now.”

“Taryn.” I smile. “Coming over to get your butt kicked in golf?”

“Ha, highly unlikely.” She picks up a putter that’s leaning against the chair.

“What’s been happening?” I ask her.

“Not much. I’ve been working and hanging out with Ronny.”

“How’s it going? You seem to be spending a lot of time together lately.”

“It’s good.” She shrugs. “Better than dating my vibrator, put it that way.”

I smirk as I hit my next ball into the hole.

“So, are you going on your double date this weekend with Rebecca?”

“Uh-huh.” I keep putting.

Antony takes the stick off me and has his shot.

“Who’s Rebecca taking on her date this week?” Taryn asks.

“I don’t know, some loser.”

“What about you . . . Who are you taking?”

“Girl I used to work with. Her name is Kayla.”

“Right.” She widens her eyes at me. “I think you’re crazy.”

Antony hits his next shot.

“Why is that?” I ask.

“Well, I always thought if you had a shot with Rebecca, you would take it.”

“Didn’t we all,” Antony replies.

“Firstly, I don’t have a shot with Rebecca. And secondly, she has made it abundantly clear that we’re just friends.”

“But if she wanted more, what would you say?”

“I would say that we’re just friends.”

“Figuratively speaking, let’s just play pretend for a minute. If Rebecca wanted more from you . . . would you be willing?”

“Any man on earth would be willing.” I take another shot.

Taryn smirks like the cat that got the cream.

“What’s that look?” I ask.

“Nothing.” She watches us for another few minutes. “You want to know what I think?”

I roll my eyes. “Not really.”

“I think you like Rebecca.”

“I think that you’re off your tree and perhaps still high after too much dick.” I take the golf putter off Antony. “That reminds me, I’ve got your pajama bottoms at my house.”

“Why would you have my pajama bottoms?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I found them under my bed the night after Carol’s party.”

“Are you high? I didn’t sleep in your bed after Carol’s party.” Taryn frowns. “Show me these pajama pants.”

“All right.” I walk into my house with her and Ant hot on my heels, and I open the second drawer in my kitchen and pull out the pajama pants.

Taryn holds them in her hand and looks them over. “These aren’t mine, and besides . . .” She frowns as she tries to articulate her thoughts. “Why would my pajama pants be under your bed?”

“Well, I was going to ask the same question. Did we hook up that night?”

“No.” She frowns. “What on earth would make you think that we hooked up that night?”

“Well, I woke up with a huge hickey on my neck, and I remember dancing with you, and then I found these pajama pants under my bed.”

“Fuck no, Blake. Rebecca asked me the same thing,” Taryn scoffs. “Ronny came over and stayed at my house that night, and as far as those pajama pants go, I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

“Maybe someone else came over that night?” Antony chimes in. “Maybe it was Carol.”

“Carol did hook up that night.”

“What?” Antony and I both snap at the same time.

“I saw her sneaking into her house at four a.m.”

“Where had she been?” Antony gasps. His eyes come to me, and he begins to chuckle.

“It wasn’t fucking Carol,” I snap, disgusted. “Look . . . all I know is never give me that punch again. I’ve never, ever blacked out in my life. I have no idea what happened or how I woke up with a giant hickey and pajama pants under my bed.”

“I have no idea either.” She shrugs. “Anyway, I’ve got to go.”

“Where are you going?” I ask as we all head back out to the putting green.

“I’m having dinner at Rebecca’s.”

“Oh.” My eyes rise over to Rebecca’s house. “I didn’t get an invite.”

“Probably because you’re too gutless to tell her that you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point.

“Are you sure about that?” Antony chimes in.

“Fuck off,” I snap.

My eyes rise to meet hers, and I know that she knows.

“Don’t say anything to Rebecca,” I warn her.

She smirks. “I wouldn’t dare.” She wanders around the cul-de-sac and disappears into Rebecca’s house.

“You trust her?”

I hit the ball. “Not one bit.”

Rebecca

“Hey,” Taryn calls as she walks in my front door. “Told you so.”

“Told me what?”

“Blake likes you.”

“He said that?” I frown as I stop stirring dinner.

“Not . . . exactly.”

I roll my eyes. “So he didn’t say it at all?”

“He didn’t need to. It was what he wasn’t saying that gave it away.”

“Like what?”

“I asked him if he liked you, and he said no.”

I hold my hand up. “And there it is, in black and white.”

“Then I gave him the look, and he gave me the look back and said, Don’t tell Rebecca.”

I stare at her as her words roll around in my head. “He said that?”

“Uh-huh.” She picks up a cookie and takes a bite. “He also said he wants to show you his dick.”

“What?” I gasp.

“Nah.” She smiles. “He didn’t say that. Just checking if you’re listening.”

I roll my eyes, and I actually have no idea whether to believe her story or not.

Maybe she’s just in matchmaking mode?

“So, what’s for dinner, anyway?” Taryn asks.

“You are literally looking into the saucepan as we speak.”

“Oh, spaghetti?”

“Yeah.” I smile at my ditzy friend. “Spaghetti.”

Saturday night

I wind the hair up around the curling wand and wait for it to set.

Blake’s words from our first double date come back to haunt me: I like your hair like that.

It’s been the weirdest week; I’ve barely seen Blake since he came to my classroom. I have, however, dreamed of him every night and thought about him all day, every day.

To be honest, I don’t even know if this is real or if this is just me realizing that he’s a good catch . . . for someone else.

It’s like this beacon of light has gone off in my brain, and no matter how many times I try to go back to the way I was thinking and feeling about Blake, I can’t seem to manage it.

My biggest fear is that I will ruin what we have, because I know he’s a lot like John. Everything that I said I would never fall for again.

Charismatic, funny, sexy, and a doctor. Not to mention that every woman who meets him falls madly in love with him.

This is not the kind of guy that I need to be involved with.

So I won’t be.

Tonight, I’m going to give it my best chance with Gregory.

Blake said that he was going to help me date, and to be honest, he hasn’t given me much feedback so far. I mean, with the first date, we both bailed and went and had dessert, and then . . . we had that moment when he told me that he would have liked to have asked for my number if we met in different circumstances.

Does that still stand?

The thing is, as much as I know how Blake plays around and jokes about everything being about sex, I don’t feel it’s like that for the two of us.

We do have a deeper friendship. One that I don’t want to ruin.

It’s fine—it’s just me realizing he’s a good man. It doesn’t mean I like him, just the opposite. This is me appreciating my good friend.

I finish my hair, and I step back and look at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing my favorite cream fitted dress, with my hair down and curled. And tonight I’m catching an Uber there because I want to drink, and Blake is right—I don’t want any more weirdos knowing where I live, so I’m not getting anyone to pick me up anymore. Blake is picking his date up in an Uber too. He said he doesn’t want to meet Kayla at the restaurant because it seems impersonal. Forever the gentleman.

Ugh . . .

I keep going over his friendship with Kayla. I wonder if it’s the same as his friendship with me. He’s so caring and thoughtful when it comes to us. Is he like that with her too?

Deep down, I hate that thought. I hate that someone else has his friendship like I do. I thought it was something special just between us. Maybe not.

But I guess I’ll be able to tell.

He’s drinking tonight, not driving, and I’ve never seen Blake have a few drinks on a date with someone that he likes. Not that I’ve ever seen him with someone that he likes.

I’m not sure I want to either.

I take a deep, steadying breath, grab my purse, and head downstairs to call my Uber. Tonight will be very telling, and I will know once and for all if this Blake thing is all in my head. I really hope it is.

My life is complicated enough already.

I glance at my watch as I wait around the corner. Tonight I want to be strategically late. Well, at least five minutes, anyway. The last thing I want to do is watch Blake walk in with his date hand in hand.

I saw Gregory, my date, walk in about five minutes ago, and when he texted me to ask where I was, of course I lied and told him I was still in my Uber. I’ve lied already: not a great start.

Worst part about it is, I’m just about to go into a date with one man, when the other man at the table is all I can think about.

I’m going to like the other guy, even if it kills me.

Ugh . . .

What has my life turned into? It’s like a fucking soap opera.

With one last steadying breath, I drop my shoulders. You can do this.

I walk in through the restaurant and see them sitting at a table by the window. Blake is talking to his date, and Gregory looks up and sees me. He stands and smiles.

Oh, he’s cute. This is a pleasant surprise.

“Hello.” I smile. “I’m Rebecca.” I hold out my hand to shake his, and he leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’m Gregory. Nice to meet you.”

Blake glances up. “Hi, Rebecca.” He smiles. “This is Kayla.”

“Hello.” I smile awkwardly as I sit down.

“Hello, so nice to meet you,” she replies. My eyes linger on her for a moment.

Oh no.

Kayla is pretty and attractive, with the girl-next-door vibe. Nothing like the supermodels that Blake normally dates.

Great.

This is it. She’s the one.

They’ve been friends for years, and he said he’s always liked her. Oh my god, how did I get myself into this situation? I feel myself begin to sweat.

Gregory moves around so that he’s closer to me. “I was worried you were going to bail on me.”

Me too.

“No, no, I’m here.” I smile awkwardly. My eyes roam over to Blake and Kayla. They’ve gone back to their conversation, and Blake is totally immersed in whatever she’s saying. He’s hardly noticed that I’ve arrived.

“What would you like to drink?” Gregory asks.

I open the drink menu and look over the choices. “What are you guys having?”

“Hmm, not sure yet,” Kayla says as she opens her drink menu.

Gregory calls over the waiter and gestures for me to go first. “What can I get you?” the waiter asks.

I feel like the awkwardness of tonight is going to make it where if I drink something that I like, I could get way too tipsy, and fast. No, stick to a drink that you don’t like.

Safer that way.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine, thank you.” I smile.

“And you, sir?” he asks Gregory.

“I’ll have a scotch on the rocks, please.” The waiter writes down our orders and turns his attention to Blake and Kayla.

“Really?” Kayla smiles all excitedly. “Oh my god,” she whispers.

“I know, I couldn’t believe it either.” Blake laughs.

What couldn’t you believe?

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it,” he says. “It’s a funny story.”

My stomach twists in jealousy. I hate that he has another girl friend. Here I was thinking that what we had was special. Now he can’t wait to tell her all about it, and I don’t even know what it is.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” the waiter asks.

“I’ll have a margarita, thanks.” Kayla smiles.

That’s my drink, bitch.

“Hmm, that sounds good.” Blake smiles all sexy-like. “Make that two.”

“So . . .” Gregory smiles over at me. “I’ve been looking forward to this night all week.”

“Me too,” I lie as I smile nervously back.

From my peripheral vision, I see Blake take Kayla’s hand and put it on his leg.

Why does he always do that?

It’s infuriating.

Here I am thinking that he’s touching me because he wants to, when that’s just his language; that’s how he speaks to all women.

“So, what do you do, Gregory?” Blake asks.

“I’m in tech.”

“What kind of tech?” Blake raises his eyebrow in interest.

“At the moment, I’m working on robots that defuse bombs.”

“Bombs?” Kayla gasps. “Who employs you to defuse bombs?”

“The United States government,” he tells us. “They’re mostly used in international deployments.”

“Wow.” I smile.

“Impressive.” Blake smiles. “How did you get into that?”

“I’m an engineer by trade, and I used to make robots for the army for testing, and they told me what they needed going forward, so I designed the technology. And I guess it went from there.”

“Where do you work from?” Blake asks.

“I have a team. Our offices are downtown.”

“A team?” Blake frowns. “How many in your team?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Impressive, man.” He smiles.

Gregory turns his attention to me. “So . . . tell me about your class.”

“Nothing much to tell.” I smile, embarrassed. In my peripheral vision, I see that Blake and Kayla have gone back to their conversation. Her hand is still on his leg, and they are talking softly between themselves.

My stomach twists in jealousy. This is a living fucking nightmare.

The waiter arrives with our drinks, and he passes them out. “Thank you.” Blake smiles as he gives them out to us and then holds his glass up. “I would like to propose a toast.”

We hold our glasses to his.

Blake’s eyes go to Kayla. “To new beginnings.”

He taps his glass with hers, and they smile softly at each other as they take a sip.

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I taste blood.

“To new beginnings.” Gregory smiles. I take a sip of my wine as his eyes hold mine.

His eye contact is getting a little bit intense, so I turn my attention back to Kayla and Blake.

“So, where did you two meet?” I ask.

“Where did we meet?” Blake smiles and narrows his eyes, as if trying to remember.

“Years ago,” Kayla replies. “Funnily enough, it was on another double date. Blake was dating my roommate at the time.”

I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears. “And you had that instant thing when he was with your roommate?” I act casual, as if the answer doesn’t matter.

“Funnily enough, I knew I liked Kayla right away, so I went home and broke up with her roommate with the intention of hopefully being able to ask her out one day.”

“You said funnily enough before.” I fake a smile.

Nothing is funnily enough here, fucker.

Blake’s eyes hold mine with a mischievous glow. Wait a minute . . . Does he know that he’s annoying me?

“And then we worked together for a couple of years.” Kayla smiles.

“Where do you work, Kayla?”

“I used to work at the children’s hospital with Blake, but now I work at the children’s cancer hospital.”

“You work with children with cancer?”

“Yes.” She smiles. “It’s hard some days, but bringing happiness to the children has really been life changing for me.”

I smile sadly. Kayla is a good person.

I sip my wine and decide that I will not say anything more. If Blake likes this woman, it’s for a reason.

The night goes reasonably smooth. Gregory is kind and funny and very interested in everything I say. But I really don’t pay much attention to him at all because I am too busy eavesdropping on what Blake is saying to Kayla.

They’ve laughed and whispered, and at one stage, he even kissed her cheek. We’ve had dinner and dessert and a few more drinks, and the four-piece band is starting up. “Let’s dance.” Blake stands and holds his hand out for Kayla. “I want to spin you around the floor a little bit.”

Kayla smiles up at him as if he’s a rock god.

My heart sinks into a puddle on the floor.

He really likes her, I can tell.

“That’s a great idea,” says Gregory. “Let’s dance too.”

Really, Gregory? I am not in the mood for dancing right now.

He leads me to the dance floor regardless.

It’s a band, and they’re playing an older song. I’ve heard it before but can’t remember where or who sings it. Gregory looks down at me. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks.”

I glance over to see Blake smiling down at Kayla. She says something, and he laughs out loud.

Ouch.

“You know, when you accepted my message request, I never envisioned that you would be so beautiful.”

I feel my cheeks go red with embarrassment. “Well . . . you’re not so bad yourself.”

Gregory is tall, and he looks down at me as we sway to the music. “How do you think tonight’s gone?” he asks.

“Honestly, it’s been great.” I smile. Not a lie; it has gone really well.

We turn as we dance, and I peek over Gregory’s shoulder just in time to see Blake softly kiss Kayla. His lips linger over hers.

My heart sinks.

I can feel the electricity between them from here.

They kiss softly again and again, and she says something, and Blake smiles as he leans with his cheek to hers.

This is it; she’s the one.

I’m not doing this to myself. I don’t want to sit around here all night and watch Blake make out with his dream girl.

I snap my gaze away from them and drag it back to Gregory’s handsome face. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Really?” His eyes dance with delight. “Where do you want to go?”

“I know this really great little dessert bar on the other side of town.”

“Shall we ask the others to come?”

“No, I want you all to myself.” I take Gregory’s hand in mine and lead him from the dance floor and back to our table. “Let’s just pay our half of the bill and leave them to it.”

“We are going to say goodbye, though?” Gregory asks.

I glance up to the dance floor just in time to see Blake kiss Kayla, not a peck but a full-on tongue kiss, and I watch in horror as his eyes close, as if he’s totally lost in the moment.

“We’ll give them a wave on our way out,” I force out as I smile.

I feel like crying howl-to-the-moon sobs.

I’m too late. I finally realized how perfect Blake is, and he’s on a date with his dream girl.

They’re probably going to get married and have babies and live happily ever after in a house two doors down from mine.

Fuck. My. Life.

We pay our half of the bill while I try desperately not to look at the dance floor, although it’s kind of hard when they’re just about making a porno in the corner.

Gregory waves goodbye, and Blake hardly even looks up. He waves and goes back to kissing Kayla.

My heart sinks lower than it has in a very long time.

This night can’t be over soon enough.

Three hours later, I stand in the cab line with Gregory.

“I’m going to call you tomorrow.” He smiles down at me.

“Sounds good.”

“This is the part of the night I’ve been looking forward to the most,” he whispers.

Oh no.

“Why is that?” I force a smile. Please don’t kiss me.

“Because I’m hoping I get to kiss the girl.”

“Oh.” I smile nervously. He steps forward and his lips take mine and he kisses me, and it’s sweet and warm and nice.

Comfortable.

Not bad, actually . . .

I get a vision of Blake and Kayla kissing, and I step back from him, disappointed in myself. I desperately wanted the earth to move with that kiss.

But it didn’t.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I get into the cab, and he closes my door and then waves as it drives away.

I feel hot and sweaty. I put my head in my hands in the back seat. Every time I think I’m ready, it turns out that I’m not. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to move on.

Gregory was nice. Gregory ticked every box. Gregory liked me . . . but all I can do is be sad about Blake.

What the hell is wrong with me?

4:00 a.m.

I sit by the window and watch the street. Blake still hasn’t come home. I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself.

I mean, it’s obvious where he is.

But I needed to know, and now I do.

Right now, somewhere out there, he’s having sex with Kayla.