Page 92 of One Week Wingman

My dream is gone.

But somehow, it’s losing Roxy that’s the real sting. Not that I ever really had her, I realize with a hollow ache. Why would I, when she thinks I’m just a useless playboy, all style and zero substance?

It’s like my childhood all over again. I let my guard down. I showed her the real me.

And she couldn’t get away fast enough.

A knock interrupts my self-loathing spiral, and when I answer the door, I find Flynn there, with a six-pack and a pizza box.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, sighing. “I’m really not in the mood for some kind of male bonding pep talk.”

“Too bad.” He pushes past me into the apartment. “We took a vote, and decided we couldn’t risk Roxy quitting, just because she can’t stand the sight of you.”

“Gee thanks.”

“Grab a beer, take a slice, and tell me what the fuck went down that’s left you both such moody bastards.”

“Geez,and there I was thinking that small-town life was simple,” Flynn says, once we’re three beers in, and I’ve told him everything about my week in Ashford Falls. “She was making out with her ex?”

I pause. “Well… It looked that way. But I know she wouldn’t have kissed Jason of her own free will, not in a million years. She would never do that to Daisy.”

But that didn’t stop me freaking the fuck out with jealousy, seeing his hands on her body.

And then freaking the fuck out that I was feeling so jealous at all.

“So, she didn’t cheat, what’s the issue?” Flynn asks, around a slice of Gino’s finest pepperoni. “Apologize, grovel, get her back.”

I shake my head. “There is no back,” I argue. “We were never real. We got swept up in the big charade of it, that’s all. Charlie warned me this would happen, playing at being boyfriend/girlfriend, but I didn’t listen,” I add, rueful.

“Yeah, and look how it turned out for him and Grace,” Flynn points out. “They’re madly in love, and ready to get hitched and start having adorable babies.”

I glare. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. Which is why I’m trying to gently point out what a dumbass you’re being.” Flynn sighs. “Just put yourself in her shoes for a minute. Imagine you found a bunch of dick pics on her phone—”

I flinch just at the thought of it.

“Exactly,” Flynn says. “And she catches you with some girl’s tongue down your throat, and then instead of having a mature conversation about how you really feel, you both just lash out. Communication,” he adds, with a nod. “It’s the foundation of any good relationship. You and Roxy never got on the same page about what you are, so is it any wonder everything else crumbled?”

I roll my eyes. “For someone who’s just as single as me, you sure think you know everything about relationships,” I grumble.

“Because I do.” Flynn burps, and reaches for another slice.

And as much as I wish I could just ignore what he’s saying, it makes sense.

Too much sense.

“It’s too late,” I say, feeling defensive. “Roxy won’t even look at me.”

“So?”

“And who’s to say I even want a relationship?” I continue, gulping my beer. “I like my life just fine the way it is. No stress, no drama, no romantic entanglements holding me back.”

“Uh huh,” Flynn smirks. “How’s that low-stress, no-drama lifestyle working out for you now?” He looks around the room meaningfully. The empty room, full of hi-tech toys.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

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