Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Okay. Sure.” I feel a little stung.
He rubs a thumbnail along his nose, looking frustrated. “So, I got your email. All that stuff for Vermont looks great. Very organized. Thanks for doing that.”
“No problem!” I say, a bit too brightly. “I’m actually really looking forward to it next week. Oh! And you’ll be thrilled to know you don’t have to worry about my sad lonely self being all alone.”
He’s been distracted, but his gray-blue eyes sharpen at that, and he stares at me. “Oh yeah?”
I shrug. “V-Cut and I hung out. Had a great time, and he’s down for a little New England fall getaway.”
Thomas’s jaw tenses. “Seriously, Mac? You’re asking the guy who stood you up, who’s—you barely know him, and you’re bringing him to your best friend’s pre-wedding celebration?”
“How is that any different from you bringing Anna to your brother’s engagement party? You knew all the skeletons in her closet, did you? Oh, wait. Perfect Thomas doesn’t date women with skeletons in their closets, or blue hair, or . . .”
I break off because I’ve just revealed way too much.
“That’s great,” Thomas says with a thick layer of sarcasm. “I have no doubt Kris will give you everything you’ve ever wanted, which is nothing.”
“Thank you,” I say with a sweet smile. “And congratulations on trusting your gut for the first time in your life about the job. Maybe, with enough practice, you’ll even figure out how not to be the most boring person alive.”
He shakes his head and turns away. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Mac. Since the universe can’t seem to get the message that we can’t stand each other.”
I don’t stamp my foot like I want to when Thomas walks away. I do, however, cry just a little, though for the life of me I can’t figure out why.
Or maybe I’m just not ready to admit it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Friday Morning, October 7
So, here’s a fun lesson. Never, ever let yourself think you’ve hit rock bottom.
The moment you do is the second fate will let you know there is always a lower level you can be shoved to.
The Friday morning of Collette and Jon’s Vermont weekend, I stare down at my phone in disbelief, reading the message over and over again, even though I know it won’t change.
Babe. So sorry, can’t make it this weekend. Have fun for me though!
I . . . I have no words. To put it in perspective of how very lame this is: I have my suitcase and duffle bag at my feet, and oh yeah: Kris is supposed to be my ride.
I squeeze my eyes shut, though not against tears, because unlike that awful afternoon with Thomas last week, I don’t feel like crying. I’m not hurt, not really. I’ve hung out with Kris a couple of times in the past week just so that I didn’t feel like I was taking a total stranger on the trip, but I’m not sure I even like the guy. Conversation, if you can call it that, is boring to the extreme, and even my physical attraction has cooled to an indifference. Like, Kris is still hot, but I note it in the objective kind of way, I don’t feel it.
So no. Not hurt.
Pissed, though? Definitely.
Swearing up a storm as I vent to my plants (very good listeners), I text Collette to let her know what’s going on and that I’ll be late, even as I hate to put any sort of damper on her weekend. That’s what makes me the most mad; not that he bailed on me, but that it’s going to impact my best friend’s bachelorette weekend.
Collette, though, as usual, is amazingly understanding, both in sharing my desire to end Kris Powers, as well as wanting to help.
Me: Don’t worry about it!! There are like five rental car places within walking distance of me, I’ll figure something out.
Collette: Did you text Thomas? He was coordinating transport, right? Maybe he knows someone who has room for one more?
I snort. Yeah, right. I’ll just hustle to text him.
He had been in charge of transportation, and it had been with no small amount of satisfaction that I’d replied to his email letting him know that Kris would be borrowing his roommate’s car to get there.
His comeback: Congratulations. You’re dating a grown man with a roommate.
Yeah, okay, fine. It’s a pretty solid burn. Which is exactly why I won’t be contacting him to let him know that there will be no Kris, and thus no Kris’s roommate’s car.
Collette texts again. Ugh, I hate this. Jon and I would have TOTALLY given you a ride had we not come up a day early for some couple time!
It had been Thomas’s idea to arrange an extra night for the bride- and groom-to-be. An irritatingly considerate one.
Me: Stop. Quit being nice and making me regret telling you!