Page 35 of Trash the Dress

Leah laughs. “I can tell you with absolute certainty, it’s the hormones. Things start to swell down below the belt due to all the blood supply to the area while pregnant, then you pair that with the hormones and bang. Pretty much a spontaneous orgasm,” she says, taking a sip of wine.

I can’t help but laugh too. “I’ve read about things like that, but experiencing it firsthand, especially with a man who I’m not even dating is awkward with a capital A. Seems to be a theme in my life these days,” I tell her.

“Nothing to be embarrassed by, Scarlett. It’s natural, and quite honestly, it’s impressive. I can’t wait to experience something like that one day…hopefully,” she says, a hint of sadness in her voice.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I ask, not meaning to pry, but wanting to return the favor of listening and being a friend.

She sets her glass on the table. “Nope, single as the day is long,” she says.

“You’re beautiful and smart. How can that be? You must have someone you’re interested in.” Her cheeks turn red, and she tucks her chin to hide her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say giggling.

“It’s complicated. Not something I think will ever stick,” she admits, still smiling sadly.

“Don’t give up. You won’t know if you don’t try,” I tell her.

She laughs. “Says the woman who ran out on her crush/baby daddy while he was in the shower.”

I guffaw. “That doesn’t count. He’s locked up tight. He’s told me there won’t be anything between us but this baby. He was hurt badly.”

“Honey, so were you. It sounds like you have that in common. If anything, I’d think you’d be able to trust each other more because you both know what betrayal feels like, and you wouldn’t do it to someone else,” she says. A waitress refills our water glasses and Leah speaks again after she takes a sip. “You never told me who your guy is anyway. He’s obviously from here since you’re here in Greendale Valley.”

“His name is Zander Bailey,” I tell her.

She chokes on her water but then chugs a little more to calm down her coughing fit.

“Oh. I didn’t realize. I knew you said he was a photographer, but I didn’t put together it might be him. He hasn’t taken pictures for anyone in a long time,” she says.

“So I understand. I suppose your choking fit reveals just how hopeless him falling in love with me is,” I tell her, feeling more defeated than before.

She reaches across the table. “There’s hope in everything. Sometimes it’s a little harder to find, but never impossible. Once you see a glimmer of it, don’t let it go.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Zander

The night lulled along, and my guilt grew with each second that ticked by. I hope she doesn’t hate me. It’s time to close down the grills, but last call is still another two hours away. I’m about to text her to see if she wants some food when the front door opens, and familiar blue eyes stare back at me.

She walks in my direction, and I meet her before she can reach the bar. For some reason, my instinct is to make sure she’s okay. She physically appears fine. “Hey. Is everything okay?” I ask her.

She nods. “I was headed back to your house and the bar was on my way. Just wanted to let you know I had eaten.”

“Oh. I was about to text you. You must’ve read my mind,” I blurt out.

Her cheeks turn pink, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s about to say something, but her gaze flicks to something behind me. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight,” she says.

She starts to turn for the exit, but I gently stop her by grabbing her hand. “Hey, are you sure everything is all right? I can come home if you need me,” I tell her, part of me hoping she asks me to.

She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s all good. You have work. I’ll see you later,” she says. This time when she turns to leave, I don’t reach for her but I do say her name.

“Scarlett.”

She keeps walking, but waves without a backward glance. I watch her leave before turning back to the bar. When I do, Gabby is staring at me with a blank expression. I try to smile, but I can’t muster one up. For one, I’m not sure if something is wrong with Scarlett or not. And two, I try not to do anything around Gabby that will give her false hope. Apparently even smiling at her too much can do that per what Brittney tells me.

About thirty minutes later, I texted Scarlett to make sure she got home okay, but I got no response. I waited another thirty minutes and decided to close the bar an hour early.

Now I’m walking into a quiet, dark house. The door to her room is closed, and I know I shouldn’t, but I crack it open…just to check on her. I have the sudden need to see her with my eyes. I know her car is here, and I know she likely fell asleep, but I have to be sure she’s okay. I should’ve had Dad cover me at High Road after the way things went down with her parents earlier. But then again, I ran like a coward after our encounter in the kitchen.

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