Feels Like Falling - Kristy Woodson Harvey Page 0,107

we could have those first few minutes of the day to just be together. He made me feel protected and, what’s more, totally adored. And I let myself consider, for the first time without batting the thought away, that maybe Andrew and I were something more than just a summer fling.

Price was laughing, and I sighed. “We really are perfect for each other, aren’t we, Price?”

I could see his face fall as he said, “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t going to end with ‘Let’s go back home, sign a prenup and make an ‘ours’ baby’?”

I laughed. “An ‘ours’ baby?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. You know, like Yours, Mine and Ours.”

“I’m entirely too young to understand that cultural reference.”

“Oh… okay,” he said sarcastically. “So, what’s the deal? Why is our match-made-in-heaven going to hell?” He grinned, but there was a sort of sadness behind it.

I shook my head and looked down at the table. “It’s so stupid,” I said under my breath.

He sat up straighter. “Is it my table manners? Because I’ve had complaints before, but I can work on it.” He put his elbow on the table and reached for his wineglass, winking at me.

I smiled. “No. It isn’t your table manners—although they are atrocious. It’s just that I dated this kid this summer—”

He put his hand up. “Wait. Kid?”

“Yeah. Kid. He’s twenty-six years old. Well, I guess twenty-seven now. It was supposed to be a summer fling, my fun rebound after Greg before I got back in the saddle for real again. Only…”

“Only it turned out to be more than a summer fling.”

I nodded. Then I said out loud what I wouldn’t let myself admit all this time. “If I’m honest with myself, I think I’m in love with him.”

“That’s great, Gray. Love is kind of the endgame, right?” Price wiped his mouth and smiled. “I mean, it sucks for me because I’m in love with you, but I’m a big boy.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are not in love with me.” I paused. “I haven’t told you the worst part yet.”

“What’s the worst part?”

“His job.”

He grinned again. “Ooooh. Let me guess. Bartender?”

I shook my head.

“Male stripper.”

I gave him a get serious look.

“Okay. I give up.”

“Tennis pro.”

I thought wine was going to fly right out of his nose.

“Oh no, Gray. That is the worst. Cougar divorcée sleeping with the twentysomething tennis pro.”

I held my head in mock shame. “I know.” Then I looked up at him and smiled. “It’s a cliché for a reason.” Then I brightened. “Wait! I have the perfect person for you to go out with.”

“Who?”

“My best friend. She’s the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in real life, she has never been married, she has no kids, she’s younger than I am.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Good Lord. I should hope she’s younger than you.” Price was well aware of my almost-thirty-five panic.

We both laughed. I almost decided to take it back. I mean, here was a man who was exactly everything I thought I wanted. And I was going to give him away? But this was my best friend. She was light and fun and free, he was light and fun and free, and they both thought the world subsisted on even numbers.

“Her name is Marcy,” I said.

“So why isn’t gorgeous, childless Marcy married?”

I shrugged. “She has always been pretty wild, but she’s ready to settle down now.”

He nodded. “What does she do?”

“She’s a therapist,” I whispered.

“No,” he said emphatically. “No, no, no.”

I laughed. “At least go out with her. She’s not like that. She doesn’t analyze you or anything.”

He sighed. “I knew I should have taken you to Nantucket. But I was afraid it was too far away, and you would say no.”

I laughed. “You’re so adorable.”

“But not as adorable as Andrew.”

I shrugged. Andrew was pretty damn adorable. “Well, on the bright side, I may be Gray, but, trust me, Marcy is way more Fifty Shades.”

Price took my hand across the table and squeezed it. “In all seriousness, I hope you find your happiness. I only hate that we couldn’t give this thing a real shot.”

“I just know that ten years from now, we’d be in Martha’s Vineyard with our beautiful blended family, and I’d be smiling and kissing you, but on the inside, I’d be thinking about him.”

He nodded. “Then I wish you well.”

We sat there for a second, and I was happy that the waiter came and broke our silence. This was the problem with breaking up with someone when