Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Yeah, thanks, and hey, congrats about the job thing!” I tap his arm, trying for casual. His eyes fix on my fingers resting on his suit jacket, and I pull them back.
“And Elodie?” he says. “How’d the C&S launch go?”
“Just wrapping up! I think it’ll be great. Everything else is . . . great. Overall, I’m just super happy.”
Ugh, why do I sound so lame? Why is this so awkward?
Oh yeah, Mac, because you basically crapped all over this guy’s heart.
“I’m glad.” He looks at his drink, “Look, Mac, this was a mistake—”
“I’m not really happy,” I blurt out. “I mean, yeah, work is great, but I’m not happy happy. Not like I was when I was with you.”
“With me.”
“When we were together,” I say, a little bit pleading.
His eyebrows go up, his expression still cool. “Were we together? I wasn’t aware we were allowed to apply labels to it.”
I flinch. “That’s fair. That’s fair.”
“Look.” He stares at his drink then back at me. “I care about you. I want the best for you. I hope that some day we can be friends. But you ripped my heart out that night, Mac. I know that’s not fair. I told you that you could leave without hurting me, but I lied. It did hurt, and you were right. You were right in that our wants are incompatible. You want fun and temporary, and I want . . . I want forever, Mac. I want that with someone.”
A lump forms in my throat at his words, even though I know I’ve earned every bit of Thomas’s censure and then some.
“Someone,” I repeat softly. Not me.
“I actually had someone specific in mind,” he smiles ruefully, staring down at his drink. “This blue-haired girl. But she wasn’t interested.”
The light of hope that was nearly extinguished flickers a tiny bit brighter.
“She sounds like a complete idiot,” I say with feeling. “What if . . .” I swallow nervously. “What if there was a rainbow-haired girl who was a lot like the blue-haired girl, but much smarter. This rainbow-haired girl, she . . . understands now, the only thing more terrible than forever with the wrong person . . .”
I wait until he meets my eyes to finish. “Would be forever without you.”
Thomas doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word, and I feel like my heart could break even as I know I deserve it. I had my chance, and I blew it.
“Mac—” he says finally.
“I love you, Thomas,” I whisper, and his head whips towards mine.
I force myself to hold his searching, stunned gaze.
The words still feel funny on my tongue—I don’t know that I’ve ever said them, even to people I do love like my mom and Collette. I’ve certainly never said them to a man, and he must know it, because his face crumples softly in understanding.
“Mac.” This time it’s a whisper. And he touches my face.
“Am I doing this wrong? Is this not how it’s done?” I ask, feeling completely raw and vulnerable. “Was I not supposed to say I love you—”
His mouth covers mine, lips coaxing mine open as he tilts my head slightly to deepen a kiss that has way more tongue than in the movies.
“You were definitely supposed to say it,” he says roughly, when he pulls back. “Hell, Mac, I wouldn’t have minded if you said it a long time ago, say right around the time when I fell in love with you.”
My heart leaps, and my smile widens with all the happiness bursting out of me. “And when was that?”
He merely smiles and pulls me in for another kiss, but I set a finger over his mouth at the last moment. “Wait. What are you doing here?”
Thomas gives a joking sigh. “So your bout with romantic talk. That was just a one-time thing?”
“No, I mean, on the app.” I press a nail to my phone. “I rejected you weeks ago. And you me. We shouldn’t have been matched again.”
“Ah. That.” He grins. “Let’s just say we had a little help from an unlikely source.”
“Who?” I demand.
“Your mom. She got my number from Collette, and sent me a very heavily emojied text message telling me to delete my TapThat account and start a new one.”
“But—why?” Even for my mom, that’s out there.
“I believe she wanted us to have another chance,” Thomas says softly, picking up the ends of my rainbow hair, and studying them.
“Huh. It was a long shot,” I say, shaking my head.
“Was it? Or maybe she just knew.” He reaches out and hooks a hand on the bottom of my bar stool, tugging me closer.
“Knew what?”
“The universe was really never going to settle for us not being together.” Thomas kisses my cheek, my chin. My lips. Then smiles. “Don’t go skeptical on me. You’re the one that said we’ve been thrown together in three different ways in a single week, and now this one. Though this one’s different.”