Page 7 of Undeniable

She sighed and laid her head on her arms crossed on the counter. She groaned, like telling me about her love life, or at least about her recent hookup, was actually painful. The woman was a relationship counselor yet found talking about her own relationships exceedingly difficult.

“We met at a networking thing for young Black professionals a few weeks ago,” she began, gathering her dark hair in her hands and fastening it with a clip at the back of her head. “We went to the museum this afternoon on our fourth date, and when he offered to walk me up… I invited him in.”

“Fuckingfinally!” I cheered. She waved off my enthusiasm, but I was genuinely excited she’d finally gotten laid. It’d been way too long since her breakup nearly two years earlier.

And unfortunately, she didn’t partake in one-night stands, so she hadn’t had another opportunity to break her dry spell. Although I couldn’t blame her for that since I didn’t partake in them either.

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you for that. Make me sound like some dried-up spinster or something,” she mumbled.

“How many times?” I asked, and she knew exactly what I meant.

She ducked her head, but I still saw her smile grow. “Five.”

My jaw dropped. “That man gave you five orgasms? Actually, I’m not surprised. He looks like the type of man who knows where everything is and what the hell to do with it.”

“Ives,” she said as I grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry. Her tone was serious, and I ceased all joking, placing the bag between us. She blew out a breath. “He’s a successful attorney. He’s freaking hilarious, damn gorgeous and is the closest to godlike I’ve ever found in the bedroom. All of our goals align—working and traveling and where we see ourselves in five or ten years. But then we’re different in all the ways that count, too. I just… I’msofucked.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that my friend was distraught over finding a really good man.

“I mean, after five orgasms…”

“You know what I mean,” she chastised and I nodded. I reached over the counter and gripped her hands in mine.

“It’s okay to be happy.” She finally looked up at me and I implored her with my eyes to believe me and take my advice.

She huffed out a breath, and I knew she knew I was right whether she verbalized it or not. “It’s hard not to become slightly cynical when most of the couples I see every day are in some sort of crisis.”

“You can be realistic, fine. But cynicism, not fine.”

“Yes, yes, thank you, Dr. Ivy. Now, on to you.” That lasted so much longer than I expected, so I took it as a win. However, the last thing I wanted to do was move on to me.

But I had to tell someone. I needed to purge the events of the day.

“I saw him,” I said in a small voice that betrayed the way everything had affected me.

Shelby’s brow furrowed, and she sat up straighter. “Him who? I don’t know a him you would see in Austin, babes.”

I tried again. “Him, Shelby.”

“You’re not saying you saw James, are you?”

There were no more words. Just hearing her say his name was enough to make me lose my ability to speak. The way it was affecting me made me feel ridiculous. Our parents still lived next door to each other, like they had our entire lives, so I’d seen him quite a few times. There’d been several holidays and other parties where we’d been forced to be in the same vicinity. Except this time, it was completely unexpected.

And we couldn’t flat-out ignore each other like we usually tried to. I wanted to, but he chased me into the fucking break room and held me hostage there.

Things I hadn’t felt for more than a decade were suddenly bubbling back to the surface. Feelings that I’d long since fucking stomped out.

“At the bar?”

I nodded but inhaled deeply, knowing Shelby would want a longer explanation. “The owners are his best friends. He actually has this big group of friends, and they all spend a ton of time there.”

I’d met all of them that evening. Amanda, Josh, and Reed were all in a relationship and were the ones that owned the bar. I’d also met Hazel and Luke, who were recently married, and they’d both been more than welcoming. And Devon, who was quiet to start, but also extremely nice once he opened up.

They were all great, and that seemed to make it worse.

All I wanted was to get out of Willowwood. I sold my house, quit my job, and left as soon as I could. Moving to Austin seemed like the most logical next step. Shelby was there, and I knew the city fairly well after growing up only a few hours north. There was also an opening for a varsity volleyball coach at one of the private schools. It paid more than my coaching position in Willowwood, except the cost of living in Austin was twice as much as our little small town with a couple of streetlights. One of which rarely ever worked.

Which meant I needed a second job. It wasn’t meant to be permanent—I just needed something until I started coaching and saved up a little bit more. And I’d bartended through college, so I thought it would be an easy solution.

---