How to Date the Guy You Hate by Julie Kriss Page 0,30

to want to leave, which to me was inexplicable. “I was really sorry, you know, about you and Charlotte. You were such a nice couple.”

Why did people always say that? I shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“She’s doing okay,” she said, as if I had asked. “She’s applied for a job at a PR agency, and she thinks she has a good chance.”

“That’s nice.” Deanna looked away, flustered, so I just bit the bullet. “Just tell me, Deanna. What is it?”

Deanna glanced at me again, blushed again, then shook her head. “She’d kill me if she heard me say this,” she said, and she took a breath. “I’ve just been a bit worried about her. She puts on a good show, but she hasn’t been dating anyone, and she spends most of her time alone, and I wonder if maybe she’s having second thoughts, you know? I get the feeling from a few of the things she’s said. And so I was just thinking, maybe you could call her, and—”

“Yeah, that won’t work.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think them. “I have a girlfriend.”

Deanna’s eyes went wide. “You do?”

I hooked my thumbs in my pockets and turned to face her, looking down at her. I let her see my Carsleigh-just-got-spectacularly-laid full-on hotness superpower. I smoldered down at her and let her have it full blast. “Yeah,” I said, my voice gravel. “I do.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she was silent for a second. She might have said “Oh,” but she said it so softly, and the music was so loud, that I saw it in mime. Her eyes went cloudy. Then she mimed “Okay then, see you,” and walked away.

At first, I was elated. Because damn, I still had it. Despite everything, I still had it going on. Eat that, Charlotte.

Then I realized what I’d just done.

Since the day we’d split up, Charlotte hadn’t contacted me. Not once. I hadn’t contacted her, either, so it was fine with me. On my side, it was numbness and relief. But I knew how Charlotte’s mind worked. I’d been a disappointment to her. It was over, she was done with me, there was nothing about me that interested her anymore.

Until now.

Charlotte would not only hear about me, she’d disapprove of everything about my life. She’d disapprove of the bouncer job, the fact I’d left the bank, the fact that I had a bruise on my cheek. And she’d definitely disapprove of the fact that I was fucking someone. Because the one thing Charlotte had to have more than anything, even over the people she didn’t want, was control.

Charlotte wasn’t going to be indifferent to me anymore. She was suddenly going to care.

I couldn’t get out of town fast enough.

Twelve

Megan

By Thursday morning, I could at least say one thing: I had a gorgeous dress for the wedding.

Holly had done her magic, and then some. She’d pulled a vintage dress that she’d bought at an estate sale and reworked it, tailoring it to my measurements, shortening the hem, adding buttons and a sleek belt. She’d accessorized it with earrings, a handbag, and a pair of vintage heels that looked brand new. When I wore all of this, I looked like myself in a pretty outfit; but I felt like Rita Hayworth in Gilda.

It put paid to every hour I’d worked on her website and her pictures. I’d never had a friend like Holly. She was the real deal. I nearly choked up when we stood in front of my mirror on Wednesday night, me in my wedding outfit, Holly in one of her long skirts and a drapey top, her hair loose down her back.

“I’m getting all maudlin,” she said to me. “I feel like you’re getting married.”

“You’re freaking me out,” I said back. “Let’s drink.”

After I’d carefully removed the dress and we’d cracked open our bottle of wine, she gave me a look over her glass. “So, you went from detesting my brother to spending the weekend with him,” she said. “Care to explain?”

I sipped my wine and definitely didn’t glance toward the sofa. “We worked it out,” I said.

It was a little weird, sure. But Jason was twenty-four and I was twenty-three, and Holly was living with her boyfriend. We were all grownups here.

It still didn’t mean I wanted to tell her.

Not that there was anything to tell. What happens right now is done when it’s done. We’d both had had an itch, and now that was over with. No awkwardness