Page 17 of Unforgettable

“No,” I groan out. “The one-night stand was supposed to ensure I wouldn’t see him again. This can’t be happening. I can’t see him again.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don’t have a choice,” Murph states. “You need this job, and, quite frankly, I think you’re overthinking it. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

I stay tight lipped, my mind working on overdrive mulling over Murph’s question. I don’t have an answer, but every part of me feels like this is a bad idea. When I agreed to the one-night stand, I did it more because it was a bucket list item. I did it because it seemed like a sure way to be with someone and not get attached. It seemed like the most obvious way to keep my heart and feelings out of the equation.

But I didn’t anticipate how amazing the night would be. I didn’t anticipate how one person could be so caring and considerate while fucking me senseless. I didn’t anticipate I’d still be replaying the way he was with me and the way we were together over and over again.

I had no idea that one night could be so unforgettable.

“I can’t afford to fall into old habits,” I tell him.

“This isn’t the same thing,” Murph scolds. “You don’t want a relationship with him, and let’s not forget it was a one-night stand for him too, which means he’s not looking for anything serious either.”

I don’t know why that last statement feels like a small stab to the chest. It’s the truth. Oz himself said he didn’t do relationships. And I’m detoxing off commitment all together.

“I’m just not prepared for my rash decision to be rubbed in my face every day.”

“Ha,” he scoffs. “The only person that’ll be giving you shit every day is me. I can't believe you had your first one-night stand and didn’t tell me. If it’s any consolation, I can’t imagine Oz making you feel uncomfortable about it at work. He doesn’t seem like that type of guy. And if anything comes up, you’re both adults. Just talk it out.”

“Am I really an adult, though?” I joke. “Before Oz, I’d only had three sexual partners and had been dating each of them. I may have just stepped into the deep end with this one.”

“That’s what you came here for,” he supplies assuringly. “To be commitment and responsibility free for a little while longer before your parents make you grow up.”

I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.

“You can rest assured he isn’t going to be mean or horrible or dismissive. And let me tell you from experience, that is way above the norm when it comes to one-night stands and dating.”

I exhale loudly, sad that Murph has only ever dated douchebags, and sad that I still really haven’t solved my problem. “Honestly, the whole thing is so nerve-racking. You should’ve seen me. I was an absolute wreck for the first half an hour. I have no idea why people even partake in something so awkward.”

“Because of the dick,” Murph says matter-of-factly. “We all do and say stupid things for the dick.”

5

Oz

“Oz, my love,” Mrs. Fletcher calls to me over the bar. “I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

Crouched down in front of the row of fridges, my back is to her. Wanting to give her all my attention, I quickly place the last two bottles of beer on the shelf and rise to my feet. When I turn around, I’m stunned into silence when I see Reeve standing beside her.

Our eyes lock, mine widening in surprise. His are filled with the same shy trepidation of the night we met, but surprisingly, his face shows no sign of being shocked that I’m here.

Did he know I worked here?

“This is our newest bookseller, Reeve,” she explains. “I thought I would give him the tour of the place before we open up for the day, have his shift start off slowly.”

Mrs. Fletcher is Harrison, the owner’s mother and the mother hen of Vino and Veritas. The bookstore side of the establishment is her pride and joy, so it’s no surprise she’s the one helping him settle in this morning.

Standing beside him, Mrs. Fletcher’s hands point around the room as she explains something to him. But I’m not paying her any mind. Her words are distant, and her presence has moved to the periphery as I focus all my attention on Reeve.

I can’t take my eyes off him.

He’s very much the same man I met three weeks ago, but now with thick rimmed reading glasses I had no idea he wore and a crisp, black V and V shirt, he’s a buttoned-up version of himself.

The man standing in front of me is the complete opposite to the man that fit so beautifully beneath my body. There’s the usual reserved stance that seems to be his default, but I’m assuming he didn’t account for the way it adds to the sexy librarian look he’s currently sporting.

From the expression on his face, it looks like lust and our previous sexcapades are not on the forefront of his mind, so I ditch the truth and go for casual. It’s obvious mentioning that we’ve already met isn’t something he’s comfortable explaining to people he works with. So, I respect his unspoken wishes.

Extending my arm out over the bar, I smile warmly at him. “Hey, I’m Oz. Welcome to Vino and Veritas.”

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