Page 4 of Of Grief And Gratitude

I pondered that for a moment. “Hmm.”

“Do you?” Cosimo leaned his elbows on the treadmill. “Blame him, that is.”

“No point,” I replied shortly. “Won’t change anything.”

Cosimo shut my machine off short of the five-mile mark without warning. I lurched forward, grabbing the handles and nearly rolling my ankle.

“What the fuck?” I swiped my towel up and snapped him with it.

“You’re going to kill yourself if you keep going,” Cosimo explained, stepping to the side to avoid the second snap of the towel. “I don’t particularly want to explain your untimely demise. People tend to blame me if I’m around when somebody dies.”

“Because you’re usually the reason,” I said sarcastically.

“Yes, well, there’s that.”

“Fuck you.” I mopped the sweat from my face and neck and stretched to keep my legs from cramping.

Cosimo glanced down at his phone before nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go find food.”

So much for punishing myself. My brother was going to force me to face reality.

Chapter Two

It was good to be home.

At least, as good as it could feel since quitting my job in New York after finding my boyfriend, who had also been my boss—I know, I know, not the best idea I’d ever had, but he was persuasive—fucking his secretary over his desk. He hadn’t fired me, but I had my pride, and it wouldn’t allow me to be the jilted fool in the office when everybody knew what Drew had done.

So I resigned from my position as an image consultant and called my mom to let her know I would be in town for a while, then called my friend Sloane to beg for a place on her couch. My best friend didn’t hesitate; we’d spent the last two weeks catching up and hitting her family’s pub, O’Connor’s.

Sloane seemed determined to help me sleep my way out of my slump, trying to set me up with every eligible bachelor she knew. Even tonight, she’d invited a guy named Ben to meet us at the pub. He was nice enough, slim and tall, with warm brown eyes and a curly mop of brown hair. He was a corporate accountant, and the man was a perfect choice if I were looking for the ideal mild-mannered husband with a stable job and a nice house. Only my heart didn’t race around him, and we inevitably reached a point in the conversation when we ran out of things to talk about.

I would never again carry a relationship on my shoulders like I had with others in the past. If I dated again, the man would have to put in just as much effort as me. It was humiliating to think back on all the times I’d done things for Drew while he took and took but never gave in return. He felt entitled to my time, body, and heart but had no qualms about hurting me because he wanted to get his dick wet with his secretary.

“So what do you say?” Ben’s question pulled me from my memories, and I smoothed my red hair and took a sip of the green beer in front of me. O’Connor’s went all out for St. Paddy’s Day, and all the drinks had green food coloring added to them. The entire bar was decked out in green shamrock décor.

I had no idea what he’d said, so I pretended to strain to hear him. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you wanted to grab coffee sometime,” he said with a lopsided smile. “Maybe we’ll be able to have a conversation without drunk frat boys screaming for more beer.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I shouted back. I nearly choked on my beer when one of those frat boys bumped into me from behind. Drops of green splattered across my dark blue jeans as Ben reached out and steadied me with a hand on my arm. At least it missed my white top.

His brows furrowed. “You okay?”

I nodded and took another sip. “Yeah, I’m good. Hazard of celebrating the holiday.”

“We could get out of here if you want,” Ben suggested with a shrug that looked too casual to be a natural motion. He was hoping I’d say yes.

I considered it a moment, but I knew I didn’t want to go home with him. Maybe a spark would develop in the future, but right now, I was pretty sure any sex we had would fall flat. What I needed was a man who could rail me so thoroughly I couldn’t walk straight for days.

“Riona!” Sloane jumped up and down and waved at me to grab my attention, and I took the out she unintentionally offered.

“Look.” I pointed in her direction. “Looks like Sloane grabbed a pool table. Let’s go play.”

Disappointment flickered across Ben’s face, but he quickly schooled his features and nodded. “Yeah, sure. You head over, and I’ll go grab us another round of beer.”

I called out my thanks as he turned away, then pushed my way through the crowd and a few overly familiar hands until I reached my friend’s side. I gave her a grateful nod. “You have perfect timing.”

“You don’t like Ben?” she asked as she racked the balls in the center of the green felt. “I thought it looked like you were getting on fine.”

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