However, I'd spent enough years dealing with my parents that I knew it was impossible to manage his expectations after he'd already made up his mind. All I could do now was be honest and sincere, apologize for hurting him, and hope that he would understand.
"I'm sorry if I did because that was never my intention." That was all I could say.
There was nothing else to discuss after that. Needless to say, the car ride to my apartment was awkward because he'd picked me up. He drove in silence, both hands clenching the wheel as if it were his lifeline. He didn't speed or drive recklessly, but I still couldn't relax.
When he pulled up to my building, I turned toward him. "I want you to have a good life, Brian. I sincerely hope you find the woman you deserve as a wife, because you deserve the best."
His jaw ticked as he faced me. "I definitely don't deserve the kind of woman who gets off on breaking someone's heart."
Though it remained unspoken I heard the 'like you' he implied with that statement. But I didn't reply because I knew the futility of trying to change his perspective when he was hurt and humiliated.
"Good-bye, Brian."
And that was the last time I'd seen or spoken to him.
"Oh, my God. Ben Murphy is here."
I blinked as the woman next to me spoke and realized I'd been sitting at the bar, lost in thought, for a long while. Most of the ice in my drink had melted. I shoved it back and lifted a hand toward the bartender. She saw my signal and set about making me another vodka and club soda. She even remembered to add three lime wedges as I'd asked for the first time I'd ordered. She was definitely getting a good tip from me tonight.
"He must be here to get laid," the other woman said.
If they hadn't been sitting so close to me, I never would have overheard the conversation, but in that corner of the bar, their words were clear even though they were soft.
"I heard he hooked up with Patricia Casper last week." The woman next to me tossed her long blond hair and nearly hit me in the face with it. Ugh. Rude much, Blondie?
"What? I hadn't heard that. Who told you?"
Blondie leaned toward her friend. "Patricia."
Her friend rolled her eyes. "She was probably lying. When was the last time Ben had a one-night stand with a local girl?"
Blondie shrugged. "Pretty sure most of them wouldn't say a word because they want him to come back for more. Most of the girls around here would cut a bitch to marry Ben Murphy."
"Sex isn't marriage, Gina," the friend said.
So that was Blondie's name. I made a mental note of it because I always tried to keep track of the catty bitches I ran across. Mostly so I could avoid them in the future.
Amen to that. My drink arrived and I slid a twenty across the bar to the bartender. "Keep the change." She smiled at me and moved on as Ben Murphy approached the bar on the other end, sitting in a stool directly across from the two gossips next to me.
At least he wouldn't be able to hear what they were saying about him as they eyed him like a piece of expensive prime rib.
I tried to tune them out as they continued their speculation about who Ben Murphy was or wasn't sleeping with, who he might be dating, and how well he filled out a pair of Levi's. While I didn't give a damn about the first two topics, I had to agree with the last. The man had a fantastic ass.
Okay, so I lied to myself. I did care about the first two topics because I was just as thirsty for Ben Murphy as these women, which made me even more determined to ignore them. Yeah, I'm perverse like that.
Methodically, I took each one of the three lime wedges and squeezed them into my drink before dropping them into the glass. I stirred it three times and lifted it to my lips. As I took a sip, I glanced up and my eyes met Ben's.
He was leaning on the bar, a bottle of beer held loosely in one hand. In the dim light, I couldn't read his expression but somehow I knew he was studying me.
"He's looking at us," Blondie-slash-Gina hissed to her friend.
I sipped my drink again. Ben smirked and rose from his bar stool, making his way around the bar. Somehow he managed to weave his way through the crowd without bumping into anyone or spilling his beer. It was almost hypnotic to watch him shift and move with the bodies surrounding him.
"Oh, my God, he's coming over here."
As he drew closer, I could see his hazel eyes locked on me, keen and bright. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, as though he knew I was sitting here, throwing myself a pity party for one. I didn't smile at him but I did cock my head, trying my best to give him plenty of attitude without using words.
He grinned at me and I think Blondie moaned. The both straightened up a little, like two hunting dogs on the scent of prey.
Ben walked around them and stopped beside me. "Hey, there, Friend of Cam."
"Hey, there, other friend of Cam."
His grin widened as though he liked my sass. Shit, he was handsome in any light, but up close and wearing an amused smile, he was in a whole other league.
"What brings you to the Boot tonight?"
I lifted my drink to my mouth, taking a hefty swallow before I answered because I was suddenly thirsty. Very, very thirsty.
"Vodka," I answered. "Cam doesn't keep any in the house."
That was a dirty, dirty lie. Cam kept plenty of liquor in the house but the real reason I'd left is because I couldn't stand to be penned up, alone and drinking. It was too pathetic. Especially since Brian hadn't been the one to break my heart but the other way around.
I absently wondered if men had the same guilt I did when they broke a woman's heart. Other than J.J., I didn't have a lot of male acquaintances.
"Ever broken someone's heart, Ben?" I asked, taking another sip of my drink.
He shrugged. "When I was younger, yeah."
"Did you feel guilty afterwards?"
His gaze sharpened as he looked down at me. "For a little while. Hurting someone is never easy, even if you don't mean to."
I nodded. "I agree. I just wondered if men feel the same way about that sort of thing as women do."
He leaned a little closer. "What about you? Broken a lot of hearts?"
Oh, wow. Yeah, I'd invited that question. Nothing left to do but answer it. "Yeah, a couple of times. Apparently, I get off on it." I crunched on a piece of ice to relieve the tension on my jaw.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two women staring at us with a mixture of shock and annoyance. Probably because I was dressed in black leggings, a loose Dr. Who t-shirt, and a beanie. My black glasses sat on my nose and, other than mascara, I wasn't wearing any make-up. Like I said, I didn't come here for attention.
Ben shifted, putting himself between me and Blondie. I scooted the stool a few inches and found my back against the wall and my inner thigh against Ben's hip. Whoa. It'd been a month since I'd had sex and my body was used to a fairly regular amount. I hadn't even been getting myself off since that night with Brian, completely uninterested in an orgasm of any kind.
"I don't know you very well, but from what I've heard from Cam, I find that very hard to believe."
Wait, what were we talking about? That's right, my supposed delight in crushing men's hearts beneath the heel of my Converse.