She took hold of his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly. “You know I’m right. Would you honestly be saying all of this now, if I hadn’t met someone else?”
“Yes.” But his voice lacked conviction.
“I think we got together because it was comfortable. We were friends, colleagues, two people who liked each other well enough...but we’re not soulmates, Doug.”
Pain circled her heart. She hated saying these words to him, but there was no other choice.
Being with Brody had made her realize that she wasn’t going to settle for a man just because he happened to be nice and dependable. As wild and sexy and unpredictable as Brody was, he was also honest and tender. More intelligent than he gave himself credit for. Strong, funny, generous. There was so much to love about him, so many things to—
Wait, had she fallen in love with him?
No, she couldn’t have. Brody was just a fling. He might have some wonderful traits, but his career would constantly keep him away from her. She wanted someone safe, someone solid. Not someone who was bold and arrogant and passionate and temporary and—fuck.
She did love him. And wasn’t it ironic that she’d only figured it out the day he broke up with her.
“Hayden? Please don’t cry, honey.”
She glanced up to see Doug’s worried expression, then touched her cheeks and felt the tears. She quickly wiped them away. “Doug... I’m sorry,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say.
He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, too.” He tilted his head, looking a bit confused. “But I don’t see what’s so wrong with comfortable.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. But I want more than comfort. I want love and passion and...” She swallowed. “I want earth-shattering.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I don’t have much experience in shattering a woman’s world, I’m afraid.”
No, but Brody did.
Unfortunately, he also had plenty of experience in shattering a woman’s heart.
TWENTY-NINE
“You really haven’t heard from him? Not even a text?” Darcy demanded.
Hayden wiggled her toes, which were being devoured by a swarm of tiny fish. Apparently, this was a spa treatment to get all the dead skin off, but it tickled so badly that she was afraid she was going to squish the poor things. Spa day had been Darcy’s idea, supposedly the best solution to Brody’s three days of complete radio silence, but Hayden didn’t feel at all better.
If anything, she only missed him more. And now she felt even worse, because Darcy had closed up her shop on a Monday morning just to commiserate with her.
“Not even a text,” she confirmed glumly. She jumped when she felt another tickle on the sole of her foot. “Oh, my God, can’t we just ask them to start the pedicure now?”
“No! You’ve got to do this first. Trust me, your feet are going to be as soft as a baby’s bottom.”
It was sweet of Darcy to suggest this girls’ day, but Hayden didn’t give a shit how soft her feet were. All she could think about was what the hell she was going to do now. About Brody. About her father.
God, her father. She still hadn’t confronted him about Brody’s belief that her dad was guilty. They’d spoken a few hours after the photos of her and Brody had appeared on the internet, when her dad called demanding to know what the hell was going on. She’d still been so stunned about Brody ending things that she simply sat there and let her dad lecture her, and it was only after they’d hung up that it occurred to her the wrong person was asking that question.
She was the one who should be demanding to know what the hell was going on.
Presley had likely fixed those games. He’d cheated. Not just professionally, but on Sheila. Love her or hate her, Sheila was still his wife, and Hayden believed her when she said he’d slept with someone else.
But she’d been too distraught to push him. All she’d gotten out of him was that he was being interviewed by investigators this afternoon.
“Come on, smile a little,” Darcy pleaded. “I know life sucks right now, but I promise, it will get better.”
“I can’t believe he ended it.”
“I can’t believe it’s hitting you this hard.” Darcy shook her head. “You were the one who was so insistent about it being a fling and nothing more.”
“I know.” Hayden groaned. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
Her friend reached over and rubbed her forearm. “Nothing’s wrong with you, babe.”
She closed her eyes and tossed her head back on the padded chair top, but her eyelids slid open when a spa employee walked into the room with a tray of mimosas in hand.
“Care for a drink, ladies?”
“I’ll take two.” Hayden shamelessly grabbed two of the long-stemmed glasses and placed them on the bamboo side table next to her.
Darcy looked like she was fighting back laughter. “She’s had a long week,” Darcy explained.
The young female employee flashed Hayden a wide-eyed look before moving on to the next room. When she was gone, Darcy snorted loudly. “Classy,” she said.
Hayden chugged nearly half of the first mimosa. “I don’t care,” she grumbled. “I need this.”
She’d woken up the past three mornings feeling confused, devastated and angry. The anger surprised her, but most of it was directed at herself anyway. Last night she was tossing and turning, thinking about what a mess she’d gotten herself into since she’d come back to Chicago.
She’d propositioned a stranger, then proceeded to fall in love with him. She’d hurt Doug. Discovered her father had a drinking problem and was probably a criminal.
And what exactly are you doing to fix any of it? a little voice chastised.
