Page 57 of Designed for Disaster

“Honestly, no. I’ve lived here forever, but I don’t enjoy eating out by myself.” He shrugged. “And I don’t usually have someone around to eat breakfast with.”

“Oh,” I said as we walked into a place called Café Brew. It was a cozy spot filled with college students with giant cups of coffee poring over laptops. “So, no breakfast dates?”

“Not really. I’m not big on morning-after breakfast with a one-night stand. Sort of defeats the purpose, you know?”

On the one hand, it was nice to hear that he considered what we had more than a one-night thing. On the other hand, it seemed a little cold. Definitely not the way I was used to thinking about people I dated, even if they were just short-term flings.

We were greeted by the hostess.

“I know you’re busy,” Trent said. “But any chance of a table for two?” He gave her a dashing smile that probably started her heart racing. I know it would have had that effect on me if I were her. I also saw him slip her a bill. I couldn’t see how much it was, but I didn’t miss the way her eyes widened. She shot me aDamn, you hit the jackpot, girllook before leading us to a table in the back of the café.

We sat down and ordered coffee, orange juice, and food. When the waitress returned with our drinks, she also brought a newspaper for Trent.

“Do you always read the paper in the morning?” I asked.

He nodded. “I normally grab one when I leave my place and read it in the car on the way to the office.”

I liked that he still read a real newspaper and not just the highlights in the app on his phone. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but there was something endearing about it. “Have you always done that?”

“Papa Davis always read the paper at the breakfast table. I think that always stuck with me even after he was gone, and I sort of carried on doing the same.”

“It’s funny the things that stick with us,” I said. “My parents always had tea and a bit of something sweet before going to bed. After I lost them, I started having a little cookie or something before going to sleep. I know it’s weird, but it made me feel closer to them in a way.”

“It’s not weird,” he insisted, frowning as he reached out to stroke the back of my hand. “It’s sweet. No pun intended.”

I chuckled. “Can I ask you something?”

He leaned back in his chair. “I know where this is going.”

“What?”

“Nothing. There’s just a tone.”

“What do you meana tone?”

“Women have a tone when they ask aboutotherwomen.”

My lips twisted. “I just wondered about your comment. The ‘not usually having someone around to eat breakfast with’ thing.” I wasn’t going to lie. That there wasn’t a string of women lined up at Trent’s place made me happy. But that didn’t stop me from being curious about his love life. When was his last serious relationship? Why did it end? We’d never talked about anything like that, and it felt like a conversation we should have, just so we’d know where things stood. “Last night you said it had been a while since you slept with anyone. I just wondered how long a while really was.”

His finger traced the space between my knuckles. “How long had it been for you?”

I let out a heavy breath. I supposed sharing my own history was only fair. “Well, it’s been…I guess about nine months since the last time I went to bed with someone. A friends-with-benefits thing with a guy from a restaurant where I used to work. It was pretty casual, and it ended when he met someone else. It’s been a couple of years since my last serious relationship. It ended…pretty badly,” I admitted. “I had some trust issues after that.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” Trent said.

I gave him a tiny smile. I didn’t want to talk about Fisher or my past. I was in a better place now—finally ready to leave all that uncertainty and distrust in my past.

The waitress returned with our food. Trent offered me some of his avocado toast in exchange for some of my breakfast burrito. I wrinkled my nose at his offering but tried it anyway. “Avocados are overrated.”

“Do not dismiss the avocado.” He frowned at me. “It’s a superior fruit.”

“Superiorly overrated,” I said, giggling at his irritated expression. “Is this why you don’t take women to breakfast? Because you know your breakfast choices leave you open to mockery?”

He pointed his fork at me. “My avocado toast and I will rise above your petty judgment.”

I snorted, and he gave me a grin. “But seriously, there’s no dark secret to it,” he explained. “I just haven’t had the best luck as far as love goes.”

“I find that impossible to believe. How does a guy like you struggle with love?”

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