Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I shrug. “Your loss.”
“Somehow you have icing on your cheek.” She points just under my eye. “How do you manage that?”
“It takes skill.” I dab at the spot until Claire gives me a thumbs-up.
“I should get extra friend points for not letting you eat that in front of Trevor.”
“What would it matter? We’ll never see him again,” I say.
“I have a sneaking suspicion that’s not true. He asked for your name, Haley.”
“So?”
“So guys don’t do that. Just don’t be surprised if Trevor Kelly circles back around to see you again. That’s all.”
His name being spoken seems to jolt his energy right back into the room. My body unconsciously leans toward where he was sitting. It takes all of two seconds to imagine him naked, hovering over me, with that delicious smirk I’m sure I’ll remember later tonight when I go to bed. And probably tomorrow too.
Claire bursts out laughing. “I know what you just thought.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, shoveling in another bite. “I was thinking about how much I love breakfast.”
And that’s why we’re friends. Claire’s mind is as dirty as mine. Although I have no idea why she thinks Trevor Kelly would be back to find me. Yes, he asked for my name, but he knows where Claire works. And with her sweet, cherublike face, gorgeous hair, and awesome personality, it’s not as if he wouldn’t want to come to Claire again for coffee. I was someone he teased because, let’s face it, I deserved it. Kind of . . . But Claire is a catch.
“See? I don’t love breakfast that much. What’s my problem?” She sighs.
I swallow, my mouth sticky from the sugar. “I think your problem is your attitude.”
A rag launches my way. I duck, the white fabric shooting over my head and landing at the foot of the salad bar.
“What did Joel want, anyway?” Claire asks.
The mention of Joel’s name zaps the Trevor-induced energy right out of me. I stab a bit of doughnut with a little more force than necessary and remember his text. He was sweet, asking how I was doing, and wanted to see if we could meet up for dinner. For a moment, it was like old times. The Joel I was infatuated with for almost a year. Then, lucky for me, I recalled the way he ghosted me for a full week before finally finding the balls to break up with me. Via text.
“What he told me he wanted or the truth?” I ask.
“The truth.”
I drop the fork and look at Claire. “He wanted to have sex with me.”
She makes a point of sighing, her head rolling around on her shoulders in frustration. “Of course he did. He’s a hippie. Free love and all that.”
“You’d be proud to know I told him to cuddle with some Matcha.” I grab my coffee and pull it to my chest. “I mean, I was tempted to cave, but I held strong.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t get what is tempting about him. He’s a hippie, for the love of God.”
I laugh. “He’s not a hippie.”
“Still.”
“Still, I said no and . . . you know what?” I smile smugly. “It wasn’t all that hard. And not because he’s a hippie,” I mock, getting that in there before she can, “but because this not-dating thing I’m doing is working.”
“How many weeks have you gone now without a date?”
“Many, but it’s mostly as a security precaution for me. Habits are hard to break, and I might’ve been addicted to dating, actually.” I pause. “Can you be addicted to dating?”
She shrugs.
“Besides,” I say, moving on, “if I win, I get to name Dane and Neely’s baby.”
Claire furrows her brows. “I didn’t know Neely was pregnant. Wow. That was quick.”
“She’s not. At least, if she is, I don’t know it.” I lug my purse onto my lap and find my debit card. I slide it across the counter.
“I can’t remember the last guy I saw you with, actually.”
“I didn’t think I’d make it this long. I think this is week seven. Eight, maybe.” I make a face. “Anyway, it’s amazing how much time you have on your hands when you’re not worried about someone else’s schedule and wants and all that crap.”
“Yeah, but you don’t just date. You fall in love. That’s a whole other level of commitment.”
She’s right. It’s a vicious cycle I’ve been in my entire life—meeting a guy, going