wasn’t going to…I promise.”
“And please don’t mention cookies.”
“I won’t.” He laughs bitterly and stares at his beer. “But I’m telling you all this to make you understand when I showed up to your parents’ party and saw you looking more beautiful than I could have imagined and you were successful and you had a boyfriend…I just…I don’t know, I got carried away. I was trying to show off in front of Dean because he looks like a guy who’s never struggled with women a day in his life.”
“Yeah,” I confirm, hating how the mention of Dean’s name makes my eyes sting. I’ve ignored the pain for days, hoping it’ll get better, but after seeing him this morning, I realized it’s going to be impossible to forget about him. He’s unforgettable. “You really didn’t need to worry about Dean.”
Nate rolls his eyes. “Dean is everything I wish I was.”
“Nate,” I scoff, shaking my head at his self-deprecation. “You’re doing amazing. You’re all grown up now and taking over your dad’s firm. You’re not the same kid you were in high school. Not by a mile, but even if you were, I didn’t mind that kid.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He sullenly takes a drink of his beer, and the slumped posture of this tall, handsome man is painful to look at. “Wish my ex could have seen that.”
I reach out and touch Nate’s arm. “I think your ex sounds like a bitch.”
Nate laughs and gives me a glimpse of the kid I used to play checkers with who didn’t have a care in the world. “She kind of was a bitch.”
“Then good riddance.” I hold my drink out, and we clink again.
“Good riddance.” He points at my nearly empty glass. “You want one more, or do you need to get going?”
He waits on bated breath for my answer, and I can’t help but see a bit of myself in him. A few weeks ago, I was the awkward, overworked, stressed-out control freak who couldn’t manage a social calendar if my life depended on it. But now, I’m changed. I want more. Perhaps Nate is the best drinking companion I can hope for right about now.
I nod and smile. “Let’s drink.”
I need IPA.
I need loud music.
I need sticky floors.
I need my clothes not to smell like Norah fucking Donahue and her baked goods.
I throw my arm over Lala’s shoulder as we meander down Pearl Street in search of our next bar. It’s dark out already, and we’ve been drinking since five o’clock because Lala turned twenty-one, and I ripped up a contract that my friend Max told me I was under direct obligation to sign.
Fucking Max. What a traitor. I should trade some of his best stocks tonight in retribution for the pain he is causing me.
I won’t. But I should.
“Let’s go to a dive bar,” Lala sings as she points at Pearl Street Pub.
I nod slowly, thinking that’s just the sort of stink I need in my life. However, this is Miles’s and Sam’s favorite place, so I murmur, “Just make sure Kate and Lynsey and that whole crew aren’t inside, okay?”
“What?” Lala giggles and pulls me through the door.
I cringe and glance around nervously because the very last fucking thing I need in my life are my two sister wives seeing me out with Lala when they don’t have a clue that Norah and I are over. I haven’t been returning any of their texts, nor have I updated my fucking social media because, well, I’ve been busy ripping up half-million-dollar contracts and stuff.
“I don’t see them!” Lala squeals as she rushes over to the end of the bar to order drinks.
My gaze follows her, and my eyes squint when I see the back of some very familiar blond hair. It’s familiar because I’ve had my hands wrapped in it several times while driving inside her. My gaze slides over to the guy sitting next to the familiar hair, and I might upchuck the four IPAs I consumed at the last bar.
“Fucking Douche Printer,” I grumble quietly as Nate’s gaze lands on me.
He frowns and straightens his posture like a peacock trying to show off his stupid feathers. At the same time, the familiar hair turns her head and laughs at something he said, giving me a full view of her stunning profile.
My fucking sugar lips is out with Nate…laughing.
And the hits just keep on coming.
I beeline over to where they’re sitting, passing Lala without a second glance, and stop right between