Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“It’s Jenna.”
“Whatever. Meet us at seven at Boggs for dinner.”
***
Dinner wasn’t terrible, mostly because it felt like four old friends from college catching up, rather than a double date. Though, that was despite Logan’s constant flirting with Justine. Actually, he’d been flirting with Justine at the bar while we waited for our table. But when we were seated for dinner, he started flirting with Jenna, too. The bonehead still couldn’t tell them apart—even though I’d pointed out that one was wearing red and the other black.
After we finished eating, Logan suggested we go over to the bar across the street. I’d ditched him last time, so I went along with it, even though I would have rather gone home. At one point he and Justine went to dance, leaving Jenna and me alone to talk.
“So…are you seeing anyone?” She sipped her vodka and cranberry through a skinny red straw.
I tried to hide my flinch. “No.”
“Me either. I’ve been so busy with work that I haven’t gone out on a date in months.” She smiled and tilted her head. “What’s your excuse?”
I didn’t want to be rude, but I also didn’t want to explain anything. Luckily, the bartender came by and saved me from answering.
“Can I get you two another round?”
I looked to Jenna.
“Sure,” she said. “I’d love another.”
“Just for her, please. I’m good.”
The bartender walked away.
“You’re not joining me for another drink?” She smiled.
“I have a lot of work to do in the morning.”
“Oh. Okay.” She reached for her purse. “Can you excuse me for just a minute? I need to run to the ladies’ room.”
“Of course.” I stood and waited for her to get out of her seat.
While she was in the ladies’ room, I took out my phone and started to scroll through email. Nothing caught my attention, so I opened up Instagram.
The first photo that popped up was a picture on Eve’s account. We’d followed each other over the summer. Fuck. I shouldn’t have taken out my phone. It felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. Eve and her husband Tom were smiling wide for the camera on one side of a table, and sitting across from them, looking just as happy, was Val and some douchebag. How did I know the guy was a douchebag? Simple. He was sitting next to my girl. The picture was like a bad car accident. I knew it was stupid to look, but I couldn’t stop staring. After way too long, I managed to drop my eyes down to read the caption.
Shenanigans are overdue.
Logically, I knew I had zero right to get pissed. She’s supposed to move on, go on dates, experience life—that’s the fucking reason we weren’t together. But did it have to be so easy for her?
I looked down at her face again. Over the summer, I’d learned her smiles—the nervous one, the fake one she put on when she was trying to be polite, and the real one she’d given me so often. And that there, that was the real damn thing. I wanted to hurl my phone across the room in the worst way.
But because I’m a glutton for punishment, I instead clicked from Instagram over to Match.com. I only had to type in V and her name auto populated, probably because I’d searched it so many times. Her profile popped up on my screen, and I got the wind knocked out of me. Val’s profile status had been changed sometime over the past twenty-four hours—from Inactive to Active.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I’d left it up to fate, and it looked like fate had fucked me.
Jenna returned from the bathroom while I was still staring at my phone.
“Did you miss me?” She batted her eyelashes, and her newly glossed lips shimmered.
I should get out of here with her. If Val could move on so easily, so could I.
But…God, I was such a pussy.
I stood and dug into my pocket for cash. Tossing enough on the bar to cover three times what we drank, I looked at Jenna and held up my phone. “I’m sorry. Something’s come up. I need to run.”
“Oh no. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. No. Yeah. I just…need to call it a night. I’m really sorry. It was nice seeing you, Jenna.”
“Do you…want my number?”
I didn’t want to insult her more than I already had by not calling. “I was honest earlier when I said I wasn’t seeing anyone. But I did meet someone this summer, and I’m just not over her yet.”
Jenna smiled sadly. “Lucky girl.” She opened her purse and dug something out. Handing me a business card, she said, “If you want help getting over her, give me a call. Not many men would have admitted what you just did, and I really appreciate that. I like you. It doesn’t need to be more than it is. Call if you just want some company one night.”