Page 40 of Hale Damage
Joe.
Today marks exactly one year since our night together. Since he kissed me like I mattered. Since he covered my body with his. Since he looked deeply into my eyes while he was just as deep inside my body and told me I wasmore.
No. It’s been one year since he fucking lied,I remind myself.
A voice breaks through my reverie. “It’s May seventeenth,” Mr. McCoy says helpfully as if I were simply blanking on the correct date, and I quickly scrawl it next to my signature. Though my brain is still stupidly on the one man I can’t seem to get out of my head.
“Thank you, Mr. McCoy,” I say, picking up my purse.
“You can call me Roger if you want.”
“Okay, and you can call me Mindy.”
He hands me a business card. “I know it can be lonely after losing a parent, so if you ever want to…” Roger swallows, brows furrowing in what appears to be nervousness. “I mean, we could go out sometime if you want.”
“Oh.” I’m a little stunned and not at all interested. As politely as possible, I reply, “I don’t think I’m in a place where I’m ready to date right now, but thank you, Roger.”
He nods as if he expected that answer, and I feel a little bad for him. “Even if it’s just grabbing a coffee as friends, I’m good with that.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say vaguely, tucking the card into my purse.
Hours later, I’m lying on my back on the bed, eyes closed as I pant out the remnants of my orgasm. But it wasn’t Roger who administered the climax. Because I can’t just fantasize about a normal guy who’s nice and polite like the banker.
Nope. That particular orgasm was brought to me courtesy of Joe’s memory, just like every other one I’ve had for the past year.
“Dammit all to hell,” I breathe, pulling the dildo from inside me. The afterimage of the cheating asshole’s face fades away, and I open my eyes to stare at the dark ceiling. “What is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop doing this shit?”
Because he hung on your every word. Because he stared into your soul when he was on top of you. Because he was the perfect mix of kind and sweet infused with demanding and dirty.
“No,” I say aloud, rolling off the bed and marching into the bathroom. Okay, it’s more like stumbling because my legs are still a little weak from… all that.
I’m disgusted with myself. I’ve got to get over this man. It’s been a fucking year already, and here I am, still allowing him space in my head.
After cleaning up, I place my toy back into my drawer and crawl between the still warm sheets.
They’d be warmer if he was here,I think and instantly berate myself for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. But Joe’s naked body curled around my back while we slept was the most relaxed I’d ever felt in my life, like we were made to sleep together, to share body heat and skin-to-skin contact.
I make a decision. Tomorrow I’m going to put him behind me. How? I have no damn idea. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure I ever will be. But I could use a distraction.
My mind goes to that Roger guy. He’s nice enough looking. Of course he doesn’t look like a male model like that other man I’m totally not thinking about. But he has nice hair.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll call the banker and accept his invitation to coffee. As friends.Onlyas friends.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Decisions, decisions
Remington
I knewthe date as soon as I woke up this morning. May seventeenth, exactly one year since I met Minnie.
And I’m still obsessed with her.
It’s Saturday, but I went to the office for a meeting with my father this morning, and now I’m out to dinner with Phoenix and Helix. Reece is sleeping peacefully in her car seat on the chair next to me.
The server brings our food, a selection of elegant Asian dishes, and we each pile some on our plates.
“I talked to Dutton today,” Phoenix announces.
