He felt that tightening in his chest again. He’d had it—the thing he was envying. The genuine laughs, the secret looks. He’d had his own version, and he’d ruined it.
He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, thinking about what he would say this time. He’d been riding on impulse since Dani left, unable to put together a rational plan of action. Texts in the early hours of the morning, slurred voicemails after he’d drank away his inhibitions. Like an insane person, he kept expecting a different outcome from repeating his actions, but this whole thing was out of his wheelhouse. He’d never cared about losing a woman before. He’d lost plenty, but when Dani had walked away he’d felt a desperation that scared the hell out of him. All his life he’d been worried about becoming his father, callous and cruel; or like his mother, foolish and pathetic. Now he was a combination of all of those things.
He dialed Dani’s number again. He would say it again. He would say it a million times until she listened. Her voicemail picked up, like he knew it would, and he tightened his fingers around his phone to keep from chucking it.
“Hey, Dani. I’m standing out on the patio at this hotel, wearing a suit and holding a glass of champagne. It’s like a fucking Gatsby party. You would love it.” He paused, the back of his throat burning. “Anyway, I wish you were here. You were supposed to be my date for these things. Partners in crime. I know I fucked all of that up. I miss you, Dani-pie. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone. I know I screwed this all up. I know I did that. I just… I need another chance. Please call me back. I miss my friend.”
“I can’t believe I’ve lived in D.C. my whole life and I’ve never taken a river cruise.” Dani sipped from a glass of champagne and looked out over the harbor lights rippling over the glassy water. She had to hold her pashmina closed to keep from shivering. Maybe she should have planned her first river cruise in the warmer months.
But Ryan stepped closer, running his hands down her arms, and the cold air turned romantic. “I can’t believe I’ve lived here less than a year and I’m the first one to take you. I’m glad we could make this happen.”
“Me too.”
He lowered his voice, leaning into her ear. “Whoever it was that didn’t work out, I hope he knows it’s my gain.”
Dani’s throat tightened. It was supposed to be a compliment, but the place in her heart where Dylan had wrenched himself from was still so raw. “I’m not sure he does,” she whispered. She tipped her head to see Ryan smiling down at her, and the understanding in his eyes made an ache flare in her chest—the one she’d been trying to ignore all night with reminders of how perfect Ryan was. The candle-lit dinner, the slow-dancing, the way he opened doors and pulled out chairs; he was checking all of the grown-up boxes and yet here she was longing for a beer and a dirty joke.
“Should we try and get higher for the fireworks?” Ryan nodded toward the upper deck and checked his watch.
“Let’s.”
With his hand on the small of her back, Dani climbed the boat’s staircase, the wind winding around her bare legs. When she reached the top, the view caught her breath. Ryan’s tie fluttered in the breeze and he reached out and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Here’s a spot,” he said. They leaned against the cold metal railing and Dani breathed in the scent of the river. She felt Ryan’s arm wrap around her shoulders. He smiled out at the night, looking handsome and content, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to care.
What was wrong with her? This man was gorgeous and obviously into her. He was reliable, sweet, and looking for all of the same things she was, but when she drew a mental picture of her future, it wasn’t him beside her at some stupid scary movie night Cat organized or one of Emma’s Christmas and Cocktails events. Ryan was exactly who she’d been trying to find when she’d signed up for that website and yet…
She felt her clutch vibrate with an incoming message. It would be rude to check it, but she needed a distraction. “Sorry,” she said. “Just give me a second.”
Missed Call: Dylan
A bitter laugh bubbled in her chest, falling out of her mouth like a choking sound. “Fucking perfect,” she muttered, touching a fingertip to the corner of her eye to keep it from leaking.
“Everything okay?”
Before she could answer, the sky erupted in color. A bit of spray from a bottle of champagne being popped misted the back of her arm. Ryan turned toward her, his hands landing on her cheeks. He smiled and he really was beautiful, blond hair and bright eyes, a smile that was all good intentions and reliability. When he kissed her she wanted so badly to melt, to flutter, to something. But instead the corners of her eyes burned and she had to clench them shut to keep from crying.
Thirty-six
Friday afternoon, Dylan pulled into his driveway just as the clock hit three p.m. His last appointment had canceled due to the snow that had been falling all day long, and with Josh gone to a conference all week, he’d worked enough to call a half-day good. He knew the trip was important if they wanted to push up their expansion plans, which seemed increasingly important with each inch Cat’s stomach grew, but working side by side with the new guy was a testament to Dylan’s strength of character if there ever was one. When he’d complained about it, though, Josh had shot back with the fact that he was leaving his pregnant wife alone for the week and Dylan’s low tolerance for training employees was last on his list of give-a-shits.
Fine. Maybe he had a point. But either way, he’d earned a half-day. He scuffed the snow off his shoes and opened the door, dropping his laptop bag and coat in the foyer, then headed to the bedroom to change into jeans. He would make a snack, then catch up on emails in front of Sportscenter. Perfect Friday afternoon.
No. Perfect Friday afternoons were the ones he used to have. The ones he spent with Dani.
He piled some meat and cheese onto a bulky roll, slathered it with mayonnaise, and booted up his laptop. He was halfway through his meal when his phone rang. Hoping it wasn’t Josh, or the new guy, or his mother, he fished the phone out of a pile of job packets he’d set on the couch and saw the name Kit Cat flash across his screen.
He sighed, rolling his shoulders for strength. After the dance they’d shared the weekend before, he’d thought he’d felt a little thaw, but Mrs. Jansen had extracted that story of Cat and Dani’s childhood friendship at dinner. Telling it seemed to remind Cat how much she hated him, and she’d gone right back to Ice Queen Mode on the ride home. She was probably calling to give him another piece of her mind. Like he wasn’t already torturing himself.
“What is it, Cat?” he asked, feeling preemptively annoyed.
“Hey, Dylan. Are you in town?” Her voice sounded weak, a little breathless, and he sat up straighter.