Chapter 18: The Ex
I regret a lot about last night. I regret that after I left the café, I went to a bar. I regret the amount I had to drink.
I don’t know quite how I ended up at Olive’s apartment. At one moment, I was chugging a shot of bourbon, and the next, I was standing outside her door. A voice in my head was telling me I ought to go home. Before I did one more thing I would regret.
But a small part of me regrets nothing. I had a decision to make last night. Either to forget about Joel or try to get rid of Olive. And I made that decision.
But I do regret the way my head ached when I woke up this morning. I’ve been hydrating all day, but when I leave work, the throbbing is still there in my right temple. I’m not twenty anymore—when I drink, I pay for it the next day. All I can think of is going straight home and running a nice, hot bath. Nonna won’t bother me.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Sophia Loren…”
I whirl around at the sound of the voice right behind me on the street. It sounds familiar but I don’t put it together until I see the face. It’s that guy, Dean, who I met in the park. The friend of Joel’s.
He flashes a smile at me that makes his one dimple pop. “What are the chances, right?”
“Right,” I mumble, thinking wistfully about the bath at home.
He arches an eyebrow. “I think fate could be bringing us together.”
“I don’t know about that.”
He takes a step toward me. He’s wearing a jacket, but underneath he’s got on a pair of slacks that look expensive. A tie peeks out from his collar. He doesn’t have on scrubs, that’s for sure. I wonder what he does for a living.
“I have to be honest,” Dean says. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day.”
I laugh despite myself. “Well, I’m sure you’ll get over it.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“I am.”
“No.” He shakes his head sadly. “I think you should take pity on me. Let me take you out to dinner.”
“I, uh…” I look down at my hands. “I’m sorry.”
He winces. “All right. I had to try, right?”
He’s staring directly into my eyes. His eyes are so dark and intense. In spite of the fact that I don’t want to go out with him, I respect his perseverance.
“How about peanuts?” he says.
I blink at him. “Peanuts?”
He jerks his head at the cart a few feet away from us that’s roasting up some peanuts. “Let me buy you some peanuts. Not dinner—just peanuts.”
I hesitate. They do smell really good. But they never taste quite as good as they smell.
“Come on.” He seizes on my hesitation. “It’s not a big deal. It’s literally just peanuts.”
“Okay,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“Yeah?” He looks surprised I agreed. “Well, great. Let me get them before you change your mind.”
So he buys one large greasy bag of peanuts, then we sit down on the steps of a nearby building to share them. The step feels very cold when I first settle down, but the peanuts are warm when I reach my hand into the bag.
“See?” Dean says. “Isn’t this great?”
“It’s not so bad,” I admit.
I reach into the bag to take more peanuts, and this time Dean’s hand brushes against mine. I get a little tingle that goes through me, and when I raise my eyes, he’s grinning at me. He’s admittedly very cute.