Page 20 of Worth the Risk

“Ihave to ask again.” I place my beer on the bartop and look over at Mia. “Why are we on a second date?”

“Well…” Her shoulders sag with the long sigh she lets out. “I guess it’s more of a friend date. I could really use some advice.” Her expression looks desperate, a far cry from her polished exterior.

“From a stranger?” I crook my brow curiously. “A man stranger?”

“I know.” She laughs, shaking her head, clearly aware how awkward it sounds. “Maybe I just want to be able to speak freely about this breakup and not be judged.”

“Who says I’m not judging?”

“You can’t; you’re too scared to make a move on that woman you said you were in love with.”

“True.” I hang my head, my thoughts instantly fixated on what Taylor is up to right now. “Okay then.” I attempt to regain focus. “What’s the advice you need?”

“Do you think I’m wasting my time—waiting for this guy, I mean? I know I explained a little about things during our firstdate, but the reality is, there wasn’t a reason for the breakup other than he just felt he needed some time to himself.”

“Time to himself?”

She nods. “Like just to get his head straight and decide what the next steps were for his life.” My eyes drop from hers. “Because we’ve been together for so long. We started dating when we were sixteen, met at fifteen—high school sweethearts.” She smiles, and an uncomfortable know forms in my stomach. “Which is a really long time when you think about it, already twelve years and we aren’t even married yet.”

“Yeah.” I try to sound enthusiastic, but her smile begins to fade.

“You think it’s hopeless, don’t you?” Her eyes fill with tears instantly.

“Whoa, whoa.” I hold up my hand. “I didn’t say that. Just take it easy,” I say, trying to calm her but at the same time, I’m not an idiot and neither is she. A man doesn’t just walk away from twelve years with a woman because heisn’t sureabout marrying her.

“It’s just stupid.” She wads a tissue and dabs it against the corner of her nose. “I didn’t even see it coming.”

Shit.

“Look,” I say as she sniffs, looking up at me, “I don’t know this guy, Mia. Truthfully, I don’t know you either. I can only speak to you as a man who, if given the chance to be with the woman I love, wouldn’t walk away from her for anything. But that’s just me. From a guy’s perspective, having zero insight into his head, it seems odd that he wouldn’tknowby now if he wanted to marry you. Is there possibly someone else?”

I don’t know why I’m sitting in this bar peeling the label off this beer I’ve been nursing when all I can think about is telling Taylor exactly what’s on my mind right now. I guess Mia and I are both here because misery loves company.

“But she’s in love with someone else,” she says, interrupting my thoughts and completely avoiding my question. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“Yeah.” I lift the bottle and take another drink. “They broke up, I guess.”

“Oh?” Her hand darts out in excitement. “Wait, why are you acting like that’s a bad thing?”

“Doesn’t really change things, does it?” I look over at her, her lips twisted into a frown. “Being her rebound is the last thing I want.”

“Good point.”

We both turn our attention back to our drinks, silently sitting side by side as we watch the television on the wall opposite us.

“We’re pretty sad,” she finally says, bumping her shoulder playfully against mine. “Two lonely hearts drinking away our sadness in a bar on a Monday night.” We both laugh, finishing our drinks and ordering another.

After a beer and two glasses of whiskey, I’m buzzed. Mia, finishing her second martini, is right there with me.

“Wait, wait, wait.” She flaps her hands to get me to stop talking. “So she knows that you know about the account of you that she created?”

“Yes,” I say finally after thinking through what she just said another three times. “She showed me and we’ve read comments together.”

“Oh my God, can I see it?” She giggles, then stops. “Oh, but wait. You said you don’t have social media.” She picks up her phone and swipes the screen open. “What’s the account? I’ll look it up.”

“Didn’t have social media,” I correct her as I swipe my screen over to the app and open it. “I, uh, I made a secret account so I could follow her.”

“Impressive,” she says slowly as she places her phone back onto the bar and grabs mine. I watch her eyes as she flips through the videos and photos, letting out a soft whistle. “Damn, she knows what she’s doing.” She glances up at me. “Really knows your good angles.”

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