Page 48 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
“No, I mean, as a person. As a date. How was your night?”
“It was good. Real good. I like Becky a lot, but she’s real skittish about getting into anything.”
“I thought she asked you out?”
“She did. I have a feeling that the idea of dating was more appealing than actually dating. We’re going to keep in touch and when she’s ready, I told her to give me a call.”
“You’re a good guy, Gregor. You know that?” My words slur.
“That I do, my friend. That I do.” He sighs.
“I’d date you,” I tell him impulsively. “Hell, I’d marry you even.”
“I’m touched, Pax. That means a lot. Especially coming from you,” he says drily.
“Thanks, man.” My voice is sincere even though I know he’s not serious. “Hey.” I change the subject, just not necessarily for the better. “Do you think it’s odd that I had to picture fucking Tabatha in order to finish tonight?”
He laugh/coughs. “Do I think it’s odd?”
“Yeah, like that I’m still hung up on her or something?”
“We both know you’re still hung up on her,” he says.
“No, I’m not!”
He looks at me. I do my best to hold his gaze.
“She was my first love,” I whine. “That shit sticks with you forever.”
He shrugs.
“G, you aren’t helping.”
“What would you like me to say, man? I’ll be honest. It sucks that you thought of her, absolutely. But not just for you. You were inside one woman and thinking of another. How do you think that makes Trix feel?”
“She doesn’t know.”
He glances over, one eyebrow raised.
I roll my eyes. “There is no way in hell she knew. And even if she did, in her mind I was fucking a horse, so really, who’s in the wrong here?”
Gregor chuckles. “I already forgot about that.”
“Yeah, well.” I gesture aimlessly, thinking that somehow proves my point.
He turns onto the main road leading toward my house. “You going to call her?”
“No.” I scoff. “Actually, I didn’t get her number. Come to think of it, she didn’t even offer it . . . why the fuck didn’t she offer me her number?”
“Maybe she just doesn’t like you?”
“That’s impossible. I’m a catch.”
Gregor makes a sound reflecting disbelief.
“Fuck off, man,” I tell him.
“It’s a good thing she didn’t, brother. This way, there are no false hopes or expectations on either part.”
