Page 5 of Girl Going Nowhere

Is he really going there? “Jeremy was a very nice guy. We just wanted different things.”

He deadpans, “Jeremy lived in his parents’ basement playing video games all day while claiming unemployment and fantasizing about you dressed as his favorite anime during sex. Try again.”

Okay, that’s out of left field and oddly specific. “I’m not doing this with you.” I grab Maia’s plate once she’s done and walk over to the sink.

From over the water, I hear, “Why not? I’m trying to understand. You’re beautiful. You’re a wonderful mom to Maia.”

“Dat me!” the three-year-old chirps.

“That’s right, Maia. That’s you. And your momma is a great person, right? She’s kind, considerate, and deserves way better than the guys she keeps wasting her time with.”

“Oh my God, would you stop using my daughter against me?” I shut off the tap water and abandon the dishes that I’ve been meaning to do since last night. I cross my wet hands under my arms and shoot him a pointed stare. “It doesn’t matter what I do with my time or who I do it with. None of that is your concern. Especially because you never want to discuss your lackluster dating life. At least I put myself out there. What about you?”

He meets my gaze, challenge flashing in his eyes as he mimics my stance. “It’s my concern when I see them take a little piece of you every time you come back from bad dates. I mean,Trevor? The guy has always been after one thing from you, and it isn’t intellectual conversation.”

I glance at Maia. “I’m not having this conversation with you, especially not in front of her.”

“Why? Because I’m right?”

“Finn—”

“Don’t do that to yourself again.”

I throw my hands up. “What am I doing to myself, Finn? Please enlighten me, oh wise one.”

His eyes go to Maia for a second, jaw ticking, before he stands and turns to me. “Random hookups aren’t going to satisfy you, Blake. Look where they got you so far. Do you really want to go back to that kind of life? You said you didn’t want to do that anymore. But what do you call this?”

My lips part as I suck in a sharp breath. This topic is usually off-limits for us because we didn’t know each other back then. Neither of us wants to hear about the other’s sexual endeavors. And I know for a fact the six-foot tech wizard looming in the middle of the kitchen has been getting just as little action as I have been. Who is he to assume I’m having meaningless sex with every guy who asks me out?

Before letting Trevor fuck me, it’d beenmonths. The friskiest I had gotten with anybody involved my gynecologist and a pap smear.

“That’s what you think, huh? How dare I, a grown, single woman, revert back to myeasydays?” I slowly shake my head in disbelief as he winces over my choice of words. I walk past him and pick up Maia, not wanting to look at his face anymore tonight. “Because that’s what you’re implying, right? That I slept with anybody who paid attention to me?”

“Blake—”

I cut him off because the last thing I want to hear is any more of his bullshit. “In case you’ve forgotten, the ‘kind of life’ you seem to be judging me for got me this precious human being. I’ve beaten myself up enough about my past and everything I’ve done in it. You don’t need to help.”

I hold Maia closer to me as I start walking out of the kitchen, stopping halfway to turn around when a bout of frustration boils the blood in my veins. “I thought we were friends, but friends don’t make each other feel bad about themselves. Even if I was sleeping with them, it wouldn’t be any of your business. It’d be between me and them. So, butt out of my life if you’re going to make empty assumptions. Especially when you’re no better.”

I don’t give him a chance to defend himself before walking out, nearly plowing over Brodie as he’s walking in. His eyes are wide as he watches me head toward my room.

Before I can close my door, I hear him ask Finn, “What the hell did you do to her, jackass?”

CHAPTER FOUR

Blake

The television inthe doctor’s office I work at has SportsCenter on, and if there weren’t a handful of people watching commentary on the Phillies-Braves game in the waiting room, I would have changed it.

Thankfully, there’s a steady stream of people coming and going that keep me busy checking them in, out, and scheduling follow-up appointments. It means I can drown out the background noise as much as possible. But my ears never fail to capture the one singular name tossed around.

“…astounding that Dover managed to catch it. He’s a big reason why the Phillies took the game in the three-one win,” the older of the two men on screen says. “And did you hear there’s talk of his official retirement after the season ends? Not even six months into the season, and they’re talking replacements.”

My ears perk up.

The other commenter makes a noise. “Not surprised, Don. Dover is the oldest player in the MLB right now. He’ll be forty-two this year.”

“Excuse me?” someone says from in front of the counter, quickly snapping my attention away from the picture plastered across the TV.

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