Page 72 of And Then Came You

“Your last one was a real fucking winner. Why not follow it up with an ever bigger asshole?”

“Please don’t be angry. I was so scared to tell you—”

“Why would I be angry? You found yourself a boyfriend. Good for you.” I grip the phone so tightly, I’m shocked it doesn’t crack in my hands. “I better get ready. I have my own plans tonight. A double feature, actually.”

She sniffles, and I wonder if I’ve made her cry. Again. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? It’s my heart that’s being trampled. “I’ve no doubt you’ve had many interesting dates.”

“Don’t know if I’d call them interesting, but they served a purpose.”

“I’m glad you never thought that way about me. If we had… slept together, I’d be one of those women, wouldn’t I? I don’t want to be one of those women.”

No mistaking it, she’s crying.

And breaking my fucking heart.

“You’ll never be one of those women.” The second I say the words, I realize it has a double connotation, one that I know she holds on to. The only trouble? That’s not how I meant it.

“Right. You should get ready. It was really good hearing your voice. I missed you, my friend.”

I struggle to remain upright, as the tears back up in my eyes. How did we get here?

More importantly, how do we get back to that night, when there was no one else in the world besides us?

“Please be careful. I don’t trust this guy, especially not with you. He doesn’t deserve you.” Scrubbing my face, I fight to maintain my calm facade. It’s a losing battle. “I should have taken the train to the Hamptons that day and made you listen. Made you understand. Read every one of those notes to you, so that you knew I meant them. Now it’s too late.”

“What are you talking about? What notes?”

“Gotta go, Lexi. Take care.” I hang up on her, still questioning my last statement.

But I can’t face what I’ve lost.

Not now. Maybe not ever.

Chapter Twelve

Lexi

Damian escorts me to my door, and I know he’s looking for an invitation to spend the night.

I’m not ready yet. Not even close.

Am I attracted to him? He’s a good-looking man.

Do I enjoy my time with him? I have fun.

Is Damian a bandaid for the broken heart Sam gifted me? Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.

But Sam and I don’t live in the same universe. It’s time for me to find a man who does.

“I had a lovely evening. That dinner was superb.” Actually, it was boring as hell, as I struggled to maintain an engaged expression for his country club friends.

It seems Damian is always mixing business with pleasure. Tonight was no different. Although the food was lovely, he was there to butter up some wealthy patrons, looking for a shortcut into the elite Hamptons art circle.

To be honest, I’m not sure what the hell my purpose was tonight.

“It doesn’t have to end. Invite me in, and we’ll have an after-party.”

There it is, my reason for existing. A quick lay after his business is finished.

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