This Changes Everything by Jennifer Ashley Page 0,19

have often, throughout the day. I got honked at or given the finger whenever I lingered at a traffic light, not noticing that red had turned to green.

Austin knocks on the doorframe, brows raised. I’ve drifted again. To Abby’s scented skin, her leg wrapped around me, the beautiful sounds she makes as she comes …

“Want to grab a brew?” Austin asks.

“Yes.” I stand up hastily, slamming my laptop closed and shoving it aside. Ben will get on me about not logging out properly, but I don’t have the patience to do it tonight. “Great idea.”

Anything to keep me from being home alone with my thoughts. Watching basketball will help, but there are time-outs and commercials. Too many lulls.

“Where do you want to go?” Austin asks as I join him.

“Mason’s.” The name comes without thought. I’d been talking about it to Abby, so it’s the first place on my mind. But why not? Mason’s has the best steaks and burgers in town and also a bar with a big television. I can watch the Suns game there.

Austin blinks at my choice—we usually go to a bar down the street from here—but he shrugs. “Okay. You drive.”

He does that so he can bury himself in beer and I can’t, but being drunk will probably just make my thoughts more morose.

Traffic has thinned somewhat by the time we’re on the road. Not entirely, but rush hour’s mad crush has passed.

Our office is on a side street between Bethany Home and Missouri, about a block west of Seventh Street. It’s a little off the beaten path, but we don’t depend on walk-in business, so it’s fine with us. A quiet street means it’s easier to pull into and out of our small parking lot.

I drive south on Seventh Street for a bit and take a left on Thomas until Sixteenth Street. South again to pull into a strip mall that’s been upgraded from mid-town sag. New restaurants have come in, and a couple of shops. I park and we walk into Mason’s.

The hostess recognizes us as semi-regulars, and greets us warmly. Austin pauses to flirt. I push past him to the bar and take a seat, ordering a draft beer for me and a bottled one Austin likes for him, no glass.

He joins me in a moment, hopping up onto the seat beside me, thanking me for the beer that lands in front of him. The game has already started—it’s in the Midwest tonight, the Suns at the Timberwolves.

Austin glances around while I stare at the screen, semi-watching. After a few minutes, he pokes at me with the hand holding his beer.

“Hey,” he says. “Isn’t that Abby?”

Chapter Seven

Zach

I nearly fall off my stool turning around to scan the restaurant. It is Abby, sitting in a corner table in the shadows … with another guy.

I’m half on, half off my barstool, beer glass slack in my hand. I’m staring like a fool, giving myself away to Austin, the bartender, and everyone in Mason’s.

For the moment, I see nothing but Abby. She’s radiant. Her dark hair is pulled into a style that frames her face, her brown eyes sparkle as she leans into the guy and smiles at him. Abby’s wearing a dress of black or gray or dark blue—hard to tell in this light—topped with a thin jacket, as though she’s come directly from work. The skirt bares her legs and draws my gaze straight to them.

“Who’s that with her?” Austin’s next to me, his voice in my ear.

I shrug as though I don’t care, but I’m burning with curiosity and uneasiness. Is this her old boyfriend? The idiot she told me about and Brooke said she was done with? Or is it a new one?

“Want to leave?” Austin asks it casually, but I hear in his tone that he’s got my back. Whether I stay or go, he’ll be right beside me.

I shrug again. “Why?”

“Because the woman you slept with Saturday night is with another guy.” Austin likes stating the obvious. “Because it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird. We’re not together.” If I say it adamantly enough, I’ll believe it.

“Okay.” Austin sets his beer on the counter. “We stay. Probably you should watch the game.”

Sounds like exciting things are happening on the screen. Fans are screaming, or booing. The Suns center is setting up a free throw. He’s a great shooter, and he’ll put them ahead again.

I can’t be bothered to watch. He’ll do it with me or without me. I hear the guys at the