Page 3 of Dopplebanger

But then I’d have to go to the wedding alone…I felt bad using him as a safety net, even though he was my only option. If I took Tori, she’d end up cursing out certain people in the weddingparty, and the goal was to fly under the radar while showing everyone how great I was. Having Evan on my arm would do the talking for me.

A shared road trip meant shared sleeping arrangements, which brought more complications, and if our relationship wasn’t going anywhere, could I really justify dragging it out simply to show people in my hometown that I’d moved on in every sense of the word?

Even if sometimes I didn’t know if I truly had?

I sucked in a deep, fortifying breath, hiked my laptop bag higher on my shoulder, and stepped into Sacred Grounds. The tan and espresso walls and scent of roasted beans gave me a contact caffeine high, and even though I’d seen it a hundred times, the “In Coffee We Trust” sign made me smile.

Evan wasn’t there yet, so I ordered our usual drinks and bought him a blueberry muffin, since he loved them and I might be breaking up with him this morning, and who didn’t need some sugary consolation after a breakup?

Come to think of it, I could use that as well. I scanned the pastries in the glass case. “Okay, which one of you wants to come home with me?” The barista gave me a look that made it clear she was worried about my mental state.That makes two of us.“Can you also add a chocolate muffin?”

So Iambreaking up with him? Is that what I’m deciding? Because chocolate is bringing out the big guns.

I’d been like seventy percent sure I should break up with Evan before talking to Tori last night. Then she’d brought up the hot thing, and, in the nicest possible way a blunt friend like her could, reminded me there weren’t a lot of boys currently knocking and that I had the wedding from hell to go to this upcoming weekend.

He already took time off to go with me… Not that he’d mind suddenly having several free days on his hands to do a wholelot of nothing.I wasn’t sure he worked all that much even when he made it to the office, another quality that made me think we didn’t mesh well. I felt like everyone should make some kind of contribution to society.

Seeing landmarks celebrating people who’d contributed to our country in a big way was one reason I’d decided on road tripping instead of flying to the wedding. Money had also been a factor, but I figured adding company would turn a dreaded trip into an adventure.

I’d been so nervous to ask Evan along, but he’d said it sounded fun, and the thought of having him by my side made it easier to check the RSVP box on the fancy, gilded wedding invitation I’d received. All those weeks ago, I was optimistic that more time would fix the missing spark issue.

It hadn’t, though. Considering he sometimes went a day or so before texting or calling me back, and that he hadn’t acted very excited about our road trip a couple nights ago when we’d set up this final planning meeting, I concluded he must not feel the spark, either. Even if a wedding wasn’t your first choice for capping off a road trip—it sure as hell wasn’t mine—when you cared about someone, you were still excited about spending time with them. Right?

Perhaps we weren’t destined to have an amazing love story that lasted the ages, but I knew he’d be down for some fun between the sheets, and holy crap, it’d been a long time. Both since I’d had sex, and since he’d started putting out signals that he hoped we’d go there. I was sure he was wondering why we hadn’t already. If I put him into the strictly fun category, maybe I could be the girl who slept with hot guys without getting too attached.

Says the girl who’s only slept with one guy, and look how that worked out.

The barista handed me two steaming to-go cups and I quickly doctored them. After testing mine—and adding more sugar, along with extra cream to cool it down faster—I pushed out the door. The weather was perfect, that low seventies with a hint of crispness that made early summer mornings so magical.

At first I was going to sit at one of the cute wrought iron tables, but the chairs, while also cute, were hard on the butt, and I had too much frantic energy coursing through my veins to sit around and wait.

I’m just going to do it. Tell him that he’s great, and the past three months have been super fun, but something’s missing, and it’s probably for the best if we skip our road trip.

Oh, and I’ll mention that I hope we can remain friends. Even if he doesn’t want to, I’ll feel better putting it out there.

Unless he’s mad and he says he doesn’t want to. That’d suck.

“Gwen?”

I spun around, nearly bumping into Evan and smashing our coffees to his chest. Luckily they didn’t spill down him, because that would’ve only made this harder. “Hey, Evan, how are you this morning? I was thinking we could sit at a table in the sun. I already bought coffees, which you probably already deduced when I practically rammed them into you.”

Amusement curved his mouth as he made a slow sweep of me, head to toe, almost like he didn’t remember that I looked… however I looked. “How much of that coffee have you already had?”

I stuck the bag with the muffins on the nearest table and held my cup up to the light. “An inch at most.”

“That’s it?” he asked, and I realized he was teasing me for the verbal spewage.

I tended to talk fast when I was nervous, and Iwasnervous, not to mention I often spoke in quick bursts as it was. There was just always so much going on in my head that I couldn’t help it.

I grinned at him and gave his arm a teasing smack—wow, I remember it being solid, but it was, like, extra solid. “Have you been working out?” I poked a finger to his biceps. “I mean, I know you work out, but serious iron pumping has definitely taken place.”

He dipped his head and rubbed his neck. I didn’t know he even got nervous. That was usually my racket.

“Shall we sit?” I plopped down before he answered. “I got you a blueberry muffin because I know how much you like them.” I pulled it out and frowned at it. “Um, it’s kinda squished, but I’m sure it’ll still taste good. Possibly also a little like chocolate since your muffin was clearly making a move on mine.”

He muttered something about getting the hurricane thing, and I glanced up at him. “Did you just say you understand hurricanes now? Did you not understand them before?”

“Um. Nothing. Never mind.” He sat across from me and took the extended muffin. I’d warned him that I’d squished it, so why was he frowning at it like it was the most offensive thing he’d ever seen?

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