Page 121 of The Problem with Dating

“Take care of him;” he requested with a cracked voice. “Don’t break that boy’s heart. I know he acts tough and puts up a good poker face, but truth be told, I don’t think he has many more breaks left within him.”

The sincerity in James’s voice sent chills racing down my spine. “I’ll do my best.”

“Do even better than that, please.” He looked over at Alex, and a tiny smirk found his lips. “But I think the two of you are safe. You look at him the same way he looks at you, and I’ve never seen him look like that before. Not even with my daughter.”

“Look like what?”

“Happy.”

* * *

After too much food, I headed over to one of the many bar stations to try the Candy Mandy signature cocktail that came with a nice size of cotton candy attached to it. Since I was on a food high, I might’ve well have added a sugar high to the list, too.

As I waited for my drink to be made, I turned to examine the room before me. Alex was at a table, laughing freely with a few of Noah’s family members. Seeing him happy did something to me. I wanted to keep him in that utopia as long as possible. I’d realized, too, the whole night whenever he wandered off, I’d find myself searching for him. It felt as if a magnet was constantly trying to pull me closer to him.

“Well aren’t you smitten,” an older man said as he stumbled to the bar beside me, clearly intoxicated. My body instantly tensed, as I recognized him from how Catie interacted with him the whole night.

Henry.

The scumbag.

He gave me a wicked grin and grabbed a toothpick from the bar counter. He stabbed a few olives in the mason jar and shoved them into his mouth. I was almost certain that was exactly how he stabbed Alex in the back.

“I’m Henry—”

“I know who you are,” I cut in, impatiently waiting for my drink. He smelled like bourbon and was bathed in cockiness.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have that big of a reputation?”

“To say the least,” I muttered, slightly turning my body away from him. He was the last person I wanted to be engaging with.

“Wow. Alex has a feisty one this time. Then again,” he leaned on the bar and allowed his arm to slightly brush with mine. “That’s kind of what I found attractive about Catie, too. So, what do you say? Are you interested in giving this old man a spin when you’re done with Alex?”

What a freaking pervert.

I snatched my arm away from him and grabbed my drink as it came out. “You’re a disgusting man, and I hope you burn in hell.”

He laughed. A sinister chuckle. “I could use the tan.”

“It’s not funny,” I spat out. “Alex looked up to you. He trusted you. So, if you get a kick out of hurting people, that’s on you. If you find it funny that someone suffered from your actions, cool. But believe me when I say this—he’s better off without you.” I glanced past Henry to see Catie standing there. I wondered how much she’d overheard.

From the way her eyes glassed over, it was enough.

I lifted my drink from the counter, and brushed past Henry, walking straight toward Catie.

“You made the wrong choice,” I told her. “You picked the wrong guy.”

As I walked past her, tears began to fall down her cheeks. It was clear that she knew I was right. I couldn’t for the life of me imagine doing what she’d done to Alex.

How did you go from luxury streets paved with gold to a dirty pot-hole of a man? How did she let Alex go only to run into the arms of a creep who was quick to hit on anything with a vagina between their legs?

When Alex found me on my way back to our table, he reached for my arm gently. “Hey. I saw you talking to Henry. You looked upset walking away. Are you okay? Did he say something—"

My eyes held his before I leaned in and cut into his words. I pressed my mouth to his, kissing him into silence. My kisses melted against his lips as I stood on my tiptoes, falling into him. I kissed him deeply, losing myself and finding him for the few seconds that our mouths interlocked. With each kiss, I wanted him to feel the truths that I wished to plant within his spirit. I wanted him to know that he was worthy of having someone stick around. He was worthy of love and of being loved. He was worth the commitment, worth the promises that love brought with him.

I kissed him for his past hurts, and he kissed me back without even knowing he was kissing my former pains, too. I never knew lips could heal until his fell against mine.

His hands wrapped around my body, and he held me so close. As the music blasted around us and others danced past in a blur, I felt as if I were floating ten feet high. I felt intoxicated, yet more sober than ever before. As I pulled back, I tenderly nuzzled his bottom lip before kissing him one last time.

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