Page 7 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

“You sure this monstrosity’s gonna fit?” My best friend, Teller, squats to lift one end of my oversized couch. We’re about to lug the thing down four flights of stairs, then Tetris it into a U-Haul along with the rest of my earthly possessions.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” I heft up my end of the couch. “But you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, right?”

Teller smirks as we back down the hallway. “Excellent life advice, Gretzky.” Patches of sandy hair poke out of his ball cap. “But if we get stuck in the stairwell, maybe take that as a sign you shouldn’t move.”

Together we huff down the first flight of stairs, pausing at the second-floor landing to reestablish our grips. “The Adirondack Mountains aren’t on Mars,” I remind him. “You know I’ve been dying to get back there, and this is my chance. I’ll only be a few hours away, and you can visit anytime.”

Teller grins at me over the couch, wagging his eyebrows. “Can I bring Winnie?”

“Of course. Definitely bring Winnie.”

I force out a smile, but my chest goes tight as we edge down another flight of stairs. Teller’s in love, and I’m happy for the guy—even though I, myself, am not cut out for relationships. At least now Teller can’t claim I haven’t tested my theory lately. I just gave it my best shot. Again. I became who, what, why, where, and when Jacqueline Woods wanted me to be. But a year and a half of compromise still didn’t make her happy.

Same, Jacqueline, same.

“Sorry, man,” Teller grunts. “Didn’t mean to get you thinking about her again.” He says this like he just read my mind. And all things considered, he probably did. He’s that kind of friend. Ride or die. Bury a body. Post your bail.

(No, wait. I did that for him.)

Teller and I met in the dorms at NYU, then lived together in a string of pizza box-filled apartments afterward. He went to law school. I got my MBA. For a couple years, we went our separate ways. But since I came back to the city, we’ve been roommates again. Fewer pizza boxes. More money in the bank. We’d been planning to re-up on our current place when things went down with Jacqueline, and I got a job offer from my old employers. Teller was itching to move in with Winnie anyway, he just didn’t want to leave me in the lurch. So I covered my rent until our lease is up next month.

I bet he’ll be proposing any day now.

“No apologies necessary.” I attempt another shrug, but the weight of the couch keeps my shoulders down. “Jacqueline did me a favor with her ultimatum.”

“Ultimatum?” Teller snarks. “Is that what you call her hooking up with Slade Kramer?”

“Heh. Well I don’t know for sure which came first,” I say. “It’s a classic chicken or the egg situation.”

Jaqueline and I were coworkers at Blaine & Co. and she’d been pushing me hard to climb the ladder and take over when my dad retires. After I told her I wasn’t interested in being the boss, I found her and Slade Kramer too close for comfort in the conference room.

Of course, she swore nothing was going on. So I must’ve imagined his arms around her as I stood unnoticed in the doorway. Still, I’m glad I walked in on them when I did. I’d been twisting myself into a pretzel to please her, and she would’ve left eventually anyway.

At least that’s what my mom did.

“Either way, I say good riddance,” Teller quips. “From the beginning, Jacqueline only had two things on her mind: a big diamond ring and a bigger investment portfolio.”

I flinch a little when he says that, but he’s not wrong. Jacqueline wasn’t ever truly interested in me. I was just a means to an end for her. Like my dad was for my mom. And the end Jacqueline wanted wasn’t the future I envisioned. Another breakup later, and here we are.

She’ll be with Slade.

I’ll be alone.

“Whoa.” Teller frowns, a line of sweat beading below his hat. “She really put you through the wringer, huh?”

“Nah. I was already in the wringer.” I grunt. “Jacqueline just dragged me out the other side.”

At least now I won’t end up like my dad did twenty years ago—divorced and devastated, raising a kid on his own with no idea what he’s doing. My parents taught me the only way to avoid inevitable heartbreak is to not give your heart away in the first place. So I’m no longer hoping to be one half of a happy couple. And I’m done pretending to be something I’m not to please a woman who doesn’t know or care who I really am.

“It’s kind of liberating, honestly,” I grit out, huffing down the last few steps to ground level. “No more relationships means no more complications.”

Teller catches my eye over the arm of the couch. “Don’t give up yet, man. Someone in Abieville could come along and change your mind.”

“Nah, I’m instituting a permanent ban on dating.” We bust backward through the exit. “Part of the appeal of that town is it’s so small, there’s zero chance I’ll meet anyone. When I lived there before, everyone was either an out-of-towner on vacation or paired off like Noah’s Ark.”

We lumber out onto the street then stagger up the ladder of the U- Haul.

“What about that blonde?” Teller asks, as we maneuver the couch into the truck. “The bridesmaid at the bar a couple summers ago?”

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