Page 257 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

“Love you too,” she replies, then hugs me too. “And you, Owen. Obviously.”

“Same, same,” I say, relaxing briefly, but only briefly, into the hug, then adjusting my glasses when we separate.

I don’t come from a family of huggers, like River does. His mom, dad, and sister are all uber-affectionate, hippie, happy, lovey people. My parents? Not so much. They’re both remarried, and have been since I was in high school. But they remarried people who are just like their first spouses. Mom married a guy who’s distant and works too much. Dad married a woman who’s unhappy with him.

History repeats itself in my family, but at least Grace is happy enough with her husband and their kid.

As for me, I want more. I want the real deal. I’d like to find a guy who looks at me the way Delilah looks at River.

When we’re back in the car, my friend wiggles his brow. “Just you and me now, cutie,” he says, a little rumble in his voice.

That rumble fries my brain.

Does he know how much he flirts with me? Does he mean it?

“Yes, just you and me and ten thousand other people driving to Tahoe on a Friday afternoon in mid-November,” I say, deflecting, since that’s been my MO whenever we’ve veered into dangerous territory—the too flirty kind.

I’ve avoided it since I don’t want to get hurt.

I don’t want my hopes crushed.

I know how that feels, thanks to Ezra, thanks to others. Everything went south at the end with Ezra, but for a while there, we had a good thing going.

A real thing.

An intense and passionate artist, Ezra went from zero to sixty with me in a few days, and I liked that. Suddenly, without warning, we were spending nights and mornings together, going to concerts, and grabbing breakfast. I was caught up. There’s something about waking up with the same person every day that fills you head to toe in endorphins.

He was a whirlwind ofneed, and that was its own kind of magic. The kind that made me believe in possibilities.

Just like I’d hoped to have with the guy before him, the venture capitalist I dated a few years ago. Todd was fun, loved to try the spiciest food, go to racetracks, and bet big in poker games.

His relentless energy and daring attitude were a huge turn-on.

Trouble was, he wasonlyout at work. He turned out to be closeted to his family.

He didn’t invite me to join him for Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. When he finally asked me to a Fourth of July event, he said I could come but I’d need to bejust a friend. So I said, how about you becomejust an ex?

The zinger alone was nearly worth the heartbreak, but Ihadliked him.

Legit liked him.

I was falling in love with him, so it hurt like hell to walk away.

Even when guys turn out to be wrong for you, the ending still stings.

But so can a bad relationship. I saw that in my parents, in the way they snipped and sniped at each other at the dinner table, and in the way their petty arguments spilled over into family time.Pass the saltwas code forI’m still pissed at you. Like, they couldn’t have waited till Grace and I were at school to poke at each other’s sore spots. They had to do it in front of us, with underhanded jabs they thought we wouldn’t notice.There’s a time and place for hard conversations, and that time is in private.

Notin front of your kids.

I don’t want that kind of relationship.

I want something real.

Something that could last.

Something meaningful.

I haven’t dated anyone since Ezra. Maybe I’ve been hoping for the right moment with River.

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