he asks on our second round.
I bring the bottle to my lips, saying, “Yep,” before I take a drink.
“Listen, I get it. I’ve been a sucker for Milène since I first met her. You don’t have to explain instant love to me. I might act like a buffoon, but that woman has me wrapped around her finger. Did you notice she finally got me to cut my hair?”
I nod as I look at his new style. The guy had taken a break from cutting it and was starting to achieve a mullet.
He runs his hand through the short locks. “The things you do for women.”
A hard, quick laugh escapes my lips. “I believe it. I would have shaved my head if Lacey had asked, and trust me when I say, I do not have any desire to chop this off.” I run my hands through my thick hair. I have good hair and would like to keep it.
“So, what happened?”
I lean back in the chair and shrug. “She doesn’t do relationships, yet we found ourselves deep into one real quick.”
“Then, what?”
“I told her how I felt, and she freaked out.”
He chuckles under his breath. “You’re telling me that after all the women you’ve dated, you finally found someone worth sticking around for, and she’s the one who broke it off?”
“Actually, I think she would have been fine, living in her bubble.”
Wayne knocks his knuckles on the wood as he looks down at the bar. “Well, if you want a distraction, there’s a pretty little redhead with her eyes on you.”
I glance down the bar and see just that. A very attractive woman with curly red hair is smiling at me. “You really think a one-night stand will do the trick?”
“Hell if I know. I’ve never had one, but if you could fall for Lacey so fast, maybe you’ll surprise yourself by meeting your next dream girl tonight.”
I have doubts I’ll feel better after doing this, but I get off the stool, walk over to the redhead, and introduce myself.
“Catrina,” she says and extends a hand. “You from around here?”
“Chicago. You?”
“Same. I’m an interior designer.”
“Florist.” I hold up my beer and nod.
And this is how it goes. Catrina is here with friends, who are at a table, talking. She was just at the bar, getting a drink, when she saw me. She’s single and in her late twenties, and she lives with her cat. She’s wearing a pretty green dress, and she’s very talkative. Interesting even.
She’s a classically put together, ultra-feminine woman who is polite, alluring, and socially confident.
But she’s no Lacey.
While Catrina is talking, I’m picturing Lacey in that golden dress, the one she wore on the date with the guy who wasn’t me. The thought of her going out with another man and wearing that damn dress eats away at me. She looked so gorgeous that night. Hell, I found her stunning in just a pair of sweats. You can’t hide beauty like hers. Not under all the wine stains in the world.
As Catrina practically purrs as she speaks, I can still hear Lacey’s voice. She has this shy quality to it when she’s uncomfortable or nervous. That’s when I knew she liked me, and later, I found it was the same when she was turned on. Her voice was breathy, and it made me wild.
As I got to know Lacey more, she was more than polite, alluring, and confident. She was funny and sincere. Her joy was found in things she loved and in what I wanted to do. I could experience life with Lacey. Conversations never had a lull, and when we were in silence, we were content.
And the sex … fuck, the sex was amazing. Maybe I’m the fool. I should have just lived in her loveless bubble and had all the sex I wanted. That way, I could get her mind and her body.
But I’d never have her heart.
Catrina is talking about something, and I feel like shit because I spaced out. I have no idea what she was saying.
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” I ask her.
“My friends want to stay, but I want to get out of here. I have to be up early.”
I know it’s bullshit. She wants me to offer to bring her home, and it will be followed by an invitation up to her place. I know this is a line because I’ve heard it before. And I’ve gone along with it.
Tonight, I don’t have it in me.
“I can give