Which was a fucking mistake.
That good-looking bastard. Fuck no. No way in hell is my woman going to be stuck at the hospital all day with this guy.
“And I might be late coming home. Dr. Lancer invited me out. Is there any way you can watch Kimmy?”
I grip the phone in my hand so tight I hear it creak. I want to ask if it’s a date and where, but my jealousy gets the best of me and I don’t. “Actually, I had plans tonight, but if you’re okay with it, I’m sure Boomer and Scarlett would love to watch her.”
I didn’t plan on going anywhere, but I’m fucking furious. If I knew it wouldn’t ruin everything between us, I’d march into that hospital and throw her over my shoulder.
“That would be great. I don’t mind at all. I trust them. Where are you going? Hot date? ; )”
“Something like that.” When the hell did things become so unstable between us? I don’t want another woman, but the thought of her with another man just makes me so spiteful. I know it isn’t right, but what else do I do?
How can I get her to love me like I need her to without telling her so much about myself?
I wait for her to text back, but seconds turn to minutes, and I know she’s not going to. She’s probably busy with Doctor Lancer. Fuck him. I can give her everything he can, even if he does have a lot of money. It doesn’t look like it, but I do too.
And I bet he’d never even get his hands dirty for her like I would. I’d slay dragons for her. What would he do?
I stand up and throw my phone on the towel as I head to the sandcastles Kimmy is building. She’s the balm on my wounded, confused heart. I want to give her and her mother everything they can dream of, but it seems that dreams tend to fade.
I have Kimmy, and that’s more than I could have asked for a month ago.
“What you doing, Squirt?”
“Digging a river around the castle! Want to help me?” She has sand all over her cheek and her red hair is coated in it too.
“Of course I do.” I sit down, the waves crashing against my feet as I dig.
If there is one thing I know, it’s this: whatever man is in Alicia’s life won’t ever love Kimmy the way I do.
But that man? I don’t care what I have to do, it’s going to be me.
Come hell or high water, no one will get in my way.
Not even myself.
“To mountains of relief!” I raise my voice so Glenn can hear me over the roar of the crowd in the bar we are in. Our glasses clink together as we down shots of whiskey.
I hate whiskey, but after a day like we’ve had, I needed something a little stronger than white wine.
“Fucking huge relief,” Glenn hisses after the whiskey goes down. “I’m so glad that doctor ruled the adjustment had nothing to do with it. God, I was scared.”
“Me too,” I pat his hand, wishing I could forget the stress this day has caused.
Including when One-Eye said he was going out on a date tonight. I’m pissed and jealous. Why would he fuck me against the door this morning only to be with someone else tonight? It makes no sense. He isn’t like that—at least, he isn’t with me.
I have my answer after wondering what we are though.
We aren’t anything, especially since he is going out tonight.
“Another round,” I say to the bartender, the hair on the back of my neck standing up when I feel someone watching me. I peek my head over my shoulder but don’t see anyone unusual. People have name tags on their chests but aren’t really mingling with the opposite sex just yet. The girls are sticking together, and the guys are.
And Glenn is leaving me on my own because he is going to the next room where the gay speed dating is.
I want to go. I don’t want to go around the room and talk to guys I’m not interested in. Seems like a waste of my two minutes at a time.
I feel the strange sensation again and goosebumps pebble my skin. My instincts scream at me to get out of here, but I know that’s just me being anxious. I look around again, but everyone is laughing and having a good time.
There’s a woman wearing a luxurious gown—a bit over the top if you ask me, but she looks gorgeous. I’m glad One-Eye isn’t here to see this. It’s red and skin-tight, with a plunging neckline. Her dark hair is curled and pinned to the side, draping down her shoulder like a waterfall.
She’s going to have every man eating out of the palm of her hand and I’m just wearing the skirt and purple blouse I put on after One-Eye and I did the deed this morning. Dr. Lancer and I barely made it to this event after the hospital. I didn’t have time to change.
I feel bad for leaving Kimmy with Boomer, but it didn’t feel right to leave Glenn alone after a day like he has had.
“Five-minute warning before you meet the love of your lives!” the host announces in the microphone.
I already met mine.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” I mutter, daring another look around the room to see if I recognize anyone. Something about this event is tickling the back of my head, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.
“You’re a good friend and employee.” Glenn wraps his fingers around his scotch glass and slowly sips, placing one elbow on the counter. His jaw is sharp, and his eyelashes are black as ink, his profile strong and calculating as he assesses the room. How the hell he looks so elegant and put together after the day we’ve had is beyond me. Even his messy hair looks like it was styled to be messy.
As a woman, I find that frustrating because it takes me forever to put my hair up in a bun to make it look effortlessly messy. Sometimes, I can’t even get the bun right. And then this stupidly handsome gay man can ruffle his fingers through the strands and make it look so easy.
It’s rude, is what it is.
“Come on, loosen up. It’ll be fun. You don’t have to give your number out. Maybe you’ll make a friend or two,” he offers with a nudge of his elbow. The bartender places my drink on the counter so I spin around to grab it, thankful that it’s a daiquiri and not another whiskey shot. I can only handle so much whiskey before everything becomes a blur. I slowly sip my daiquiri, wishing I hadn’t skipped dinner.
Oh, this is going to be bad.
Am I allowed to order an appetizer from the restaurant while I sit and listen to men I’m not interested in? It makes me think of that one time One-Eye brought breadsticks and pizza to me instead of flowers. If that moment taught me anything, it’s that food speaks louder than petals.
“Excuse me? Can I get breadsticks with some marina sauce?” I ask the bartender, giving my best begging look.
“You’re going to eat food while you’re speed dating? Alicia, that… no. I can’t allow that,” Glenn shakes his head.
“I have to. I’ve had nothing to eat and I’m a lightweight. If I don’t eat something, I’ll be drunk in an hour.”
“Sloppy drunk?”
“The sloppiest.”
“Get two orders for her please,” Glenn lifts two fingers to the bartender and we both laugh.
I nudge him. “Jerk. I don’t need two.”
“Two-minute warning!” the host sings into the microphone and my stomach turns with nerves.
“Here you go,” the bartender states, placing the warm breadsticks in front of me. The delicious scent of garlic rises from them, making my mouth water just as my body starts to feel light with a buzz. I inhale the aroma deep and sigh, finally feeling comfort blanketing over me. I grab the breadstick basket with one hand and my drink with another.