And, as I sat across from this gorgeous male specimen, I started wondering if my lack of nervousness had somehow made Dylan uneasy—and maybe his incessant chatter was a sign of that. As I realized that, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and resolved to be a better date. So I tuned back into our one-sided conversation, hoping I hadn’t missed too much.

  “Can you believe this hotshot didn’t even want to negotiate points?”

  I smiled and half-shrugged my shoulders, hoping my inattention wasn’t noticeable. Fortunately, our lovely waitress helped with that. “Are you ready to order?”

  Jesus. I’d forgotten we’d only ordered wine thus far.

  “Yes,” Dylan declared without even looking at me. “We’ll have the mushroom risotto appetizer.” Finally, he glanced up, a question in his expression. “Chicken or fish?”

  I was a deer in headlights. The man had effectively caught me off guard—and to think I’d been worried about fucking up our conversation. “Chicken.”

  “Great choice. It’s the best dish on the menu.” He looked up at the waitress. “We’ll have the saffron chicken.”

  “Excellent.” She whisked up our menus and disappeared before I could even let out a breath of air—or realize that Dylan had ordered for me.

  And that fucking fired me up.

  “Wait a second, Dylan. What if I don’t like chicken?”

  “You don’t? Then why—”

  “No, I do. But that’s not the point.”

  His face relaxed as a smooth smile turned up the corners of his lips. Damn him for being so good looking. It almost made everything all right. “You’ll have to trust me on this one, Megan. If you don’t like it, I’ll let you pick dessert.”

  My mouth moved before my brain. “Let me?”

  Then he chuckled. “Relax, babe. I didn’t mean to get you upset.” I could feel my lips pressed together—and it was probably safer that way. “I promise to not do that again.”

  That was better—but the apology I was waiting for never came, and I got distracted again by his quick conversation.

  “So have you ever considered buying a house?”

  I got my head back into the game. “No, not yet. I don’t think I want to do that until I’m ready to settle down.”

  “That’s what a lot of people think, but they’re not considering what a great investment a home can be.” Oh, my God. He was actually moving into sales mode. How could I have forgotten that Dylan was a hotshot realtor broker?

  I bore down, listening to him talk a lot more, and by the time our appetizers arrived, he was telling me about how the mayor had personally sought him out to find him the perfect home last summer—and how he’d made a killer commission.

  At least the risotto was fucking mind blowing.

  “What is it you do again, Megan?”

  His question threw me off. I’d settled into audience mode, so I had to shift gears quickly. “Oh, I’m the Assistant Librarian at the—”

  “Winchester Public Library. That’s right.”

  “If you love books like I do, it’s one of the best places to be.”

  Our waitress brought our main course to the table, asked if we needed anything else, and after Dylan assured her we did not, she disappeared. It was a lovely plate of food, I’d give him that. The chicken was positioned on a bed of noodles and what I thought might have been spinach, covered in a creamy yellowish sauce. The same sauce had been drizzled artfully around the outer edge of the plate. It felt almost disrespectful to touch it and ruin the presentation the chef had so obviously wanted to impress diners with.

  “I have to say I admire that about you, Megan.” My ears perked up a bit as I tried to figure out if I needed to cut a piece of chicken breast off with a knife or the side of my fork. “I guess I’m too selfish a guy for public service. But somebody’s gotta do it.”

  My level of frustration with the chicken caused me to lose control of my mouth. “Let me guess—were you an only child?”

  I could tell from the way he looked up from his plate that he wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or impressed. Fortunately, he’d picked up his knife, giving me a clue as to how to handle my food.

  His brow furrowed, the first sign tonight that maybe he actually had a personality other than the hotshot one he was projecting. A slight smirk appeared on one side of his face as he looked up from his dish. “Astute observation, Megan. Takes one to know one?”

  Damn. He was good, too. But I wanted to think I wasn’t quite like this guy. Still, even if he was an egotistical ass, I didn’t want this entire evening to be shit. “Guess so.” I carved a corner of chicken off the breast on my plate. “Do you have any favorite books?”

  “Do you mean fiction?”

  “I just mean books.”

  “Some of the usuals. How to Win Friends and Influence People, The 7 Habits, The Art of War.”

  At least he was a reader. That helped.

  “Have you ever been to the business section at the library? You might like our collection.” Some of that section I’d curated myself—but I didn’t want to brag.

  “No offense, Megan, but I do audiobooks.”

  I just nodded my head. Maybe he didn’t realize we had audiobooks, too—but I was tired of trying. So I asked him, “What inspired you to get into real estate?” and let him proceed to dominate our conversation for the rest of the night.

  As he drove me to my apartment later, a sad feeling overcame me. Was this all there was out there? Guys like Dylan? Was Tyler nothing but a legend in my mind?

  These thoughts were swirling in my head, making my heart ache, so when Dylan asked, “Aren’t you going to invite me up for a cup of coffee?” I did.

  Except we didn’t drink coffee.

  Now, one thing I liked about Dylan was he was good in bed. I think. I had an orgasm—but after he left, I wondered if it was because I’d been thinking about Tyler the entire time he was licking my pussy.

  What sucked? I couldn’t even concentrate on reading a book before I drifted off. Meaning I was going to have to give Lisa a piece of my mind for putting my ex back in my brain so hardcore.

  Damn it.

  Chapter Four

  What the fuck was I doing? I mean seriously.

  I was standing in front of my full-length mirror, playing fucking fashion show, for God’s sake. First, I tugged a long-sleeved black silk shirt off and then grabbed the next one off my bed: a short-sleeved pink t-shirt with a cute sequined heart design on the front. Sighing, I stared at myself, wondering why the hell I’d allowed Lisa to talk me into going to this goddamned reunion. I’d rather get a root canal.

  Shit. This pink shirt looked way too casual. Taking a deep breath, I stood back from my closet doors, trying to reassess. What could I wear that would be nice but not too nice—and comfortable? Did I own anything like that?

  Don’t panic.

  I quickly scanned the contents of my closet. No dress. Not tonight. I had to wear one Saturday night.

  So what did I have? I spied a pair of simple black slacks, a little longer than most of my pants and slightly flared on the bottom, so they looked dressy and classy without seeming too casual or even too professional. I could wear a pair of heels with them and make them look even better.

  Great, but that left my top half, and I was frankly more worried about that. People would notice my shirt long before they noticed black slacks. I continued scrutinizing the clothes in my closet. Early July made for a difficult choice. It would be hot as hell outside but I knew it would be cool inside the Sedgwick Hotel where the reunion was being held. If I had bare arms and they overdid it with the AC, I’d regret dressing for the weather outside.

  But every top my eyes scanned didn’t get my approval for one reason or another, and it was only because Lisa had been stressing me out about the whole thing. I’d reluctantly gone shopping with her and even picked out some outfits, but I wound up buying things Lisa would wear. Lisa had rockin’ deltoids and triceps, muscles I hadn’t focused any of my workout efforts on, unlike my friend who trained herself and other people every day of the week.

  Why the hell was I making such a big fucking deal about this?

  Closing my eyes, I stuck out a hand, moving it around in the area of my closet where my blouses hung. I sang the Happy Birthday song and then clamped my fingers around the fabric right in front of my hand, pulling it out as I opened my eyes. Unless I had a very good reason not to, this was going to be what I wore.

  It was a long-sleeved shirt, but it was a light, satiny fabric that would work in an air-conditioned environment. The floral pattern on the fabric incorporated muted red, green, and orange hues—simple and pretty but not over the top.

  Yeah, it would do.

  With that ridiculousness done, I touched up my makeup and hair—spending more time than I had preparing for the last date I had. I also found it silly that I hadn’t had a date since the Dylan debacle—and he’d only called once afterward, making half-hearted plans that I didn’t exactly warm up to. And not only did he not call me again, I closed my account on the dating website I’d been using. I’d been obsessing over Tyler ever since that conversation with Lisa, and I knew I’d be a shitty date until I got my ex back out of my head again.

  And that all depended on this weekend. Whether he showed or not, I would once more be ready to move on with my life after this stupid reunion.

  Secretly, I kind of wished Tyler would make an appearance, but I knew that was nothing but a pipe dream. The man had a page on Wikipedia, for fuck’s sake. Why the hell would he show up to his ten-year reunion in podunk Winchester?

  But it didn’t stop my brain from wishing and wanting—and, by the time Lisa showed up late to my apartment, I was almost a wreck. I ran down the stairs and walked over to her car, jumping in and fastening the seatbelt quickly. “We’re gonna be late, Leese.”

  “So what? Who expects us to be on time anyway? Boring!”

  How could I be upset with my funny friend, what with her singsong voice and happy demeanor. And she was right. It wasn’t like a doctor’s appointment or some shit like that.

  “By the way, Meg, you look great.”

  “Thanks. You, too.”

  Lisa backed her white Focus out of the parking spot—before my crabby neighbor could complain about where my friend had temporarily placed her car. “Why aren’t you wearing what we picked out for you?”

  I glanced over, noticing that Lisa was wearing exactly what she’d picked out at the mall: a snug cream-colored tank top, equally snug jeans, and strappy sandals that showed off fuchsia toenails. In a word, my friend looked sexy. I, on the other hand, appeared safe. And I was okay with that.

  “I didn’t feel comfortable in those clothes.”

  “Why not? You looked fucking amazing!”

  “I don’t know about that. But I do know that shirt was more your style.”

  “Girlfriend, you need to come to one of my body image workshops.”

  “You do those?”

  “Hell, yes. We women are so damned unsure about our looks when, in reality, we appear not just perfectly fine but awesome in everyone else’s eyes. We judge ourselves too harshly. And that’s what I talk about in that class—‘cause I can help you get nice abs and biceps that aren’t manly, but if you’re struggling up here,” she added, pointing her right index finger to her temple, “none of that’s gonna matter.”

  “My brain might be fucked up, Leese, but we can’t fix it tonight. I feel comfortable in the clothes I’m wearing now, so I won’t be a basket case tonight. That’s all I care about.”

  “Oh, my God. Are you having a freak out right now?”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes as Lisa accelerated through the amber light at the intersection. “No, I’m not. I’m just a little nervous. Aren’t you?”

  She sure didn’t seem to be.

  “A little. But I’m more excited—so it balances out.”

  After Lisa drove another block, I said, “I don’t know why I even care. I mean…it’s not like this weekend will have any bearing on the rest of my life. It’s not like high school.”

  “Exactly. We’re just gonna catch up with some old friends.” She slammed on the brakes at the next red light, but she was smiling from ear to ear. “And we’re gonna see who looks older than they should. Who’s gotten fat. Who’s losing hair. Who’s let themselves go.”

  “Seriously, Leese? Is that all you want out of this reunion?”

  “Well, no. I wanna have fun. But the icing on the cake would be to see some of the real bitches looking like shit.”

  I smiled, slightly shaking my head. My friend certainly kept things interesting.

  “If nothing else,” she said, driving another block before turning a corner, “I at least get to show everyone what I’ve been up to.”

  What she looked like, she meant, but I wasn’t about to argue.

  When we got close to the hotel, I pulled down the visor to use the mirror, just to make sure I didn’t look like shit. And I silently chided myself for caring so much.

  Lisa drove around the hotel parking lot, finally finding a space to squeeze her car into. When we got out, she smoothed her tank top over her belly so that the fabric had no ripples. “How do I look?”

  “Perfect.” And I meant it. I could almost see the definition in her stomach muscles, and I knew our former classmates might be jealous.

  But some of them would have what Lisa and I did not. Husbands. Families. High-powered jobs. Their own homes. Luxury cars.

  Jesus. I was doing it to myself, the anxiety thing. I needed to quit. Right. This. Second.

  As my friend and I walked across the parking lot in the waning summer sun, I told myself to be confident. I had nothing to be ashamed of. After all, it wasn’t like I’d wasted the past ten years. I’d earned two degrees and had a job I loved. So what if I wasn’t married or didn’t own a home?

  Lisa was right, and I embraced her philosophy. I needed to go in with the mindset of catching up with old friends. I’d told Lisa a few months ago that the people I’d wanted to keep in touch with I had, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun to visit with friends from the past and find out what they’d been up to over the past decade.

  By the time we neared the front entrance, Lisa almost gasped—making me immediately rethink my calm demeanor. “Oh, my God.”

  “What?”

  “I forgot to tell you.”

  Sometimes, my dearest friend frustrated the ever-loving shit out of me. “Tell me what?”

  “Uh…Penny called me yesterday with an update.”

  “Penny?” I paused a few feet from the revolving doors.

  “Yeah—you remember Penny Carpenter, don’t you?”

  “Um, yeah. How could I forget? President of the Chess Club and on the yearbook committee.” But I’d known her from the National Honor Society. How could I have forgotten her? She’d had a mixture of freckles and pimples competing for space on her face, and before she got braces, her buck teeth seemed to enter the room before she did. Harsh, sure, but that was how I silently entertained myself during the boring days in some of the classes I’d had to take. Penny had been a nice enough gal, though, and I was happy for her when she graduated still wearing braces, because I knew she could be a gorgeous gal—with beautiful teeth sometime in the future.

  “Well, she’s Penny Austin now. Marriage, you know.”

  “Is that what you forgot to tell me? That Penny got married?” I was struggling to keep my frustration in check.

  “Well, uh…”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, refusing to budge until I got an answer. “I’m waiting.”

  “So, uh, Penny gave me an update.”

  “You already told me. You said over fifty percent of the class was going to be there.”

  “No, not that.”

  “So what then?”

  Lisa started trotting in her heels toward the revolving door. Turning her head, she looked at me as she prepared to enter, just like we had with the merry-go-round in elementary school. “Uh…Tyler might show up tonight after all.”

  Holy fuck. I felt the blood rush out of my head, blackness appearing at the corners of my eyes as my heart began thudding in my chest. When I regained control of my senses, I felt steamy ire rising from my gut. Making it through the revolving doors quickly, I cornered my friend.

  The sheepish look on her face should have made me angrier, but it didn’t—and she knew it.

  “That’s a game changer, Leese. Seriously.”

  My friend smiled, looking nervous—just like she should be. “But you’re already here,” she said, pulling my arm away from the constantly moving doors we’d just walked through. “Please?”

  I was angry but I shouldn’t have been, because deep down I knew a big part of me kind of wanted to see Tyler.

  But what if he brought a girlfriend with him?

  Or a wife.

  What then?

  As I walked forward, Lisa’s arm tugging mine, I pondered the possibility that my ex might not be single. If that turned out to be the case, I’d be courteous—and then I’d get the hell out of here. I hadn’t wanted to go anyway, but that would completely ruin everything.

  I knew there was nothing in rock news about him having someone significant in his life, but that didn’t mean shit.

  Lisa’s damn puppy dog eyes made me do more things as an adult than I’d ever have considered on my own—like this reunion. But she knew I’d bail if things got weird or uncomfortable, and it didn’t matter that she’d been the driver here. I’d just call an Uber or something if I needed to leave—and then I’d lord it over her for as long as it was an effective manipulative tactic…which, with Lisa, would be about three days tops.

 

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