Faith's smile fell. “Worst. Storyteller. Ever. Don't quit your day job.”

“I never said the story was going to be good.”

“Stop lying to yourself. Obviously it left an impression. Everyone who is everyone knows there is some sort of combustible history between you two. The story has to be good if it's left this much of an impression.”

She had me there.

Faith tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I know you aren't used to all this girl talk, so I'll take it easy on you.”

A laugh burst from my chest. “How kind of you.”

“Let's start from the beginning,” she said, ignoring me. “Tell me exactly how you felt the moment you first got a look at him. Please tell me he was wearing a leather jacket.”

I laughed again, some of my unease ebbing. “He wasn't wearing it when I met him at the party, but he definitely had his leather jacket on when he took me home.”

Faith clapped her hands together. “I fucking knew it.”

So I shared with her everything that happened at the party.

“Who suggested taking the party elsewhere?” Faith asked.

My lips twitched. “Me.”

“Yes!” she said. “Love an empowered woman who knows what she wants.”

I pointed to myself. “And this woman wanted him. All of him.”

“And you got him.”

“I did.” I patted myself on the back.

“Something tells me it's theafterthat was the problem.”

“That's where it got messy. Or didn't because he didn't call.”

She narrowed her eyes. “He asked for your number but didn't call you?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And you’re still mad about it?” she hypothesized. “It seems like something you would have brushed off.”

I suddenly became very interested in my nails. Perhaps I should swap out the cherry-red polish for something even darker. A deep navy or maybe just go all black.

If I had to really examine it, I would venture that I was still mad about it because if he had called me, I might not have gotten into the situation that happened mere daysafterBeck and I hooked up.

“Luna—”

“Faith—”

She poked my arm. “You like him. That’s why it hurts so much.”

I swallowed. “I like him a lot.”

“As in present tense?”

I shook my head. “No. No present tense. Dude didn’t call me. If he was the man for me, he would have figured out a way to reach out.”

Her brows knitted together. “When did you see him after that? When was the first encounter?”