THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,324

half committal to whatever I have to say. Her gaze meets mine and for a second I think she understands—she sees how much love I still have for her. It burns like a fucking Olympic torch that will never die. See it. Please see it. Rosy and impeccable timing ruin the moment. She bounces up next to me and locks her slim arm around mine. Lainey swallows hard, closes her eyes, and heads to the table where her client waits. I leave with Rosy chattering aloud about everything and nothing. I glance over my shoulder, looking through the windows of the restaurant. Lainey doesn’t look my way again. She talks to the woman, but the corners of her eyes are turned down and her smile is false. Broken hearts never truly heal, they mend, beat a little differently, forever after. Lainey and I are the greatest love that ever died.

Fucking Rosy isn’t going to help me forget. Not for one second.

It sure is going to be fun trying, cock says.

_______________

I’ve tried calling Molly four times this morning. Granted it’s before six a.m. and she isn’t required to answer her cell before seven, but I want to talk to her. I think it’s talk that I want to do. Half of me is angry because of her underhanded date set-up, but the other half is pretty fucking happy with her for it. Rosy left my place late last night. Mostly we talked, and when she tried to initiate more I wasn’t game. Because what hot-blooded male turns down sex with a young, intelligent woman who is asking for it? Someone as fucked up as I am, that’s who. Her company was nice, and she even pretended to be interested in my coding expeditions. She smiled and asked questions when I told her, in laymen terms, what I was working on. Dare I say her company was a welcome surprise. She got embarrassed when I politely declined a blowjob, assuming she picked up wrong cues throughout the night. I reassured her that the cues were all there, but I was tired and wanted an intimate encounter with a woman such as herself to be perfect. It was a load of horseshit.

I can’t stop thinking about how upset Lainey looked last night. She’s getting married. She’s supposed to be this glowing, happy, radiant bride. Seeing me put her off in a bad way. Did I condemn her to a life of unhappiness with Dax? Surely she knows she has a choice to say ‘fuck you, Dax, I’m marrying no one.’

Rosy gave me her phone number and we made plans to meet at the bookstore this weekend. We’ll see if she cancels before then. I’m not counting my chickens before they hatch, that’s for sure.

I wander from my bedroom to the kitchen. Pouring orange juice straight into my mouth from the container without my lips touching and without spilling a drop is a skill I’ve perfected over time. I finish off the bottle, order a take-out breakfast, and turn on my computers for the daily grind. I have a meeting with the guys at eleven and a day full of staring at computer monitors again. I click open my email to see if anything has changed overnight. Several emails catch my eye, but one, always the one, starred as V.I.P. gets opened first. It’s of the most unexpected sort.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Intimate encounters

I debated for a full six hours whether I should give you another second of my life with this email, but in the end I figured I better. Because assholes stretched as wide as you tend to stink and need to hear the truth sometimes.

1.) I would like custody of the café by your house. I don’t care if it’s by your house. It’s by my favorite fabric store, so I’m there frequently. Good lettuce is hard to find in NYC.

2.) This one is more of a PSA because I feel the need to get it off my chest. The next time you decide to break up with a woman you should do it sober, with clean clothing and maybe drop a few fucking hints before. Definitely don’t send confusing emails days before you break her heart.

3.) The real reason I’m emailing after a month of no contact is because Dax is insisting that I invite you to the wedding. The very last thing I want is for you to come and I told him this, but he has some fucked up