Page 45 of Imperfect Match (Imperfect Match 1)
“I have shorts on ... Leo, your brother? Is he here?”
“No, he’s not. He said he was going out for drinks.”
“Oh.” I sigh.
“He didn’t tell you?”
No, he didn’t tell me. But I lie to Leo. “You know, he mentioned something about it, it just slipped my mind.”
Leo chuckles. “Or you both are being idiots and still not talking . . .”
I’m not having this conversation. Leo is the last person who should be calling anyone names. Still, I’m surprised he knows anything and now I’m intrigued.
“Did Reid say something to you?”
He shrugs. “Just that you guys slept together and now you’re being weird.”
I slap a hand to my chest, furious. “He said I’m being weird? Like he’s not? He’s the one who’s ignoring me!”
“I agree, he’s being weird too. I mean, it’s like you two are basically married, but now that you’ve consummated it, you’re not sure what to do.”
“I’m sure I’d like to punch him in the throat,” I fume.
He smiles, as if he’d like to see that. “So go call him, or better yet, go see him. He’s at the bar next to his office. Go blow up his date.”
“Date?” My blood boils higher.
“Oh, I didn’t mention that he was having drinks with the new girl at his company?”
He’s on a date. He’s on a date with a girl I didn’t set up. He’s on a date with a girl I didn’t set up after he kissed me again.
I’m going to kill him.
I don’t say another word to Leo, because why bother? It’ll just delay Reid’s death and right now, that’s my single focus.
Kiss me and then go on a date?
I head into my apartment, toss on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. His office is just a few blocks from here and I know exactly what bar he’s at. Of course, it’s pouring rain, but I barely feel it. I’m so mad I practically stomp the whole way there.
When I arrive, I walk through the door and two guys look at me, half amused and half horrified. And then I stop to think about what I probably look like. Jesus. I literally rolled off the couch after a sobfest and marched down here through the rain in sweats. I’m a soggy, sorry mess.
Then, right when I’m about to turn around and run the hell home, I see him.
And he sees me.
It feels like one of those moments where the music should sound behind me, lights brighten, and everyone in the background shimmers away.
He looks incredibly hot. His hair is pushed to the side, his jacket is off and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his forearms, which I find sexy as hell. I watch as his eyes find mine, drinking me in as my heart pounds in my chest. My feet refuse to move.
And then he stands. He doesn’t look at the blonde at his table, who is now turning around to see where he’s going. He just walks. Right to me.
I want to scream, cry, throw something at him. Why has he turned me inside out like this? Why am I standing in a bar, dripping wet, like a crazy person? He’s got me all mixed up and I don’t know what to do.
I’m dying to kiss him. But that’s what got us in this mess.
“What are you doing here?” he asks me quietly.
“I’m … panicking,” I blurt.
