Page 48 of Worth the Risk

“I have coffee and donuts. And you didn’t have to tell me your address; it’s pretty easy to find you online.”

“Sir, should I let her up?” I hear my doorman ask into the receiver.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Come up.”

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I pull myself up, running my hands over my bed-tousled hair and rough whiskers. I slip my feet into my slippers, sniffing the dirty t-shirt I threw onto the floor last night before pulling it back on. It’s a wrinkled mess but so am I.

By the time I’m walking downstairs, the elevator is opening up to a smiling Mia complete with two coffees and a large box of donuts.

“Good mo— Oh.” She scowls but doesn’t seem surprised at my appearance. “You look rough. I take it your talk with Taylor didn’t go well?”

“It didn’t,” I say, swiping one of the coffees from her, “but for all you knew, she could have been here this morning when you showed up unannounced.” I take a sip and wince; it’s still too hot but I desperately need it. “Which would have been a really fun way to prove to her that you and I are nothing more than friends.”

“You need some sugar and carbs,” she says, reaching into the box and pulling out a white frosted donut. “Take it.” She wags it at me and even though I don’t want it, I take it from her now sticky hands. “And I already knew she wasn’t going to be here; that’s why I came over.”

“Knew how?” I place the donut onto a napkin and lick at the sickly-sweet icing left behind on my finger.

“Well, apart from the obviously unsolicited kiss you planted on her yesterday in the middle of the game, the fact that she clearly didn’t believe you that you and I were just friends kind of sealed the deal.”

“Trust me, I convinced her.”

She rolls her eyes. “You men all think you have some magical way of seducing your way out of shit when you screw up, but it doesn’t work.”

“That’s not what I did, and I didn’t screw up. I had no idea that your friends that you asked me to play pickleball with also happened to be my friends… or friends of friends. Whatever, I am way too hung over for this shit. Why are you here again?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing after yesterday.”

“Bullshit. You could have texted me.”

“I’m serious. It didn’t look like things landed very smoothly.”

“They didn’t but I was able to smooth things over.” The coffee has chilled to a reasonable temperature and I savor the richness.

“Then why do you smell like a distillery?”

I sniff my shirt and frown. “Shit. Uh, yeah, it wasn’t what I thought it would be after we talked so I just came home and drank a glass or two, maybe four or five, and passed out.”

She chews her donut deliberately, thinking through what I’m saying. “Not what you thought how?” She pulls out one of my barstools and takes a seat, making herself comfortable, clearly letting me know she has no intention of leaving until she gets the full story.

“Fine.” I toss my hands in the air, almost in defeat. “I realized that back when we first met, that kiss she and I almost shared but didn’t—she was dating him at the time. I guess it wasn’t exclusive but that was the first night they fucked.”

“Whoa.” Her hand pauses halfway to her mouth with the rest of her pink-iced donut. “Why do you know that?”

“I asked her.”

“Again, why? How is her sex life, if she’s not in a relationship with you, any of your business?”

“Don’t do that.” I shake my head.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“We were about to kiss?—”

“But you didn’t and she stopped it from happening. She didn’t owe you an explanation that she had just started dating another guy and wasn’t sure how she was feeling about him yet. From where I’m sitting, it sounds like you’re jealous that she chose another guy over you.” She shrugs, shoving the last bite of her donut into her mouth and wiping the crumbs from her hands.

“That’s not at all what this is.” She lulls her head to the side to give me the most exaggerated eye roll. “Okay fine. Yes, I don’tfucking like the fact that she chose him over me but it’s not about that. It’s about the fact that she wanted me the entire time but still chose him. I don’t get it. And now she feels guilt for wanting me or something. I don’t know; it’s fucked.” I sigh and finally reach for that donut.

“Are you still in love with her?”