Breaking Even(45)

“So it doesn’t bother you that Brin is here with a date?” Tag asks, fishing hard for something he won’t catch.

It’s driving me crazier by the second, and she hasn’t even met the guy yet. But I refuse to tell him that, because he’ll never let us just be friends. He’ll keep pushing me until I crack, and Brin’s not the kind of girl you have fun with in the bedroom. She’s the kind you marry.

Not me. I don’t want something that serious, and it would have to be that serious with her—monogamy, steady dinners at a set time, cuddling on the couch for hours, and recording our favorite shows. That’s not who I am. It can’t be who I am. Some people just don’t have the luxury of picturing themselves happy.

Some people have seen the real side of the ending instead of the happily-ever-after fable people want to believe.

“Here’s your drink,” Leah says, smiling as she hands me the Corona.

I offer her a brief smile, and make a mental note that she’s wearing a dark red dress in case Tag asks. It’s hot that she knows so much about cars, but it’s also annoying. Though I love talking about cars all day, I prefer to be the one educating. I don’t like feeling like someone thinks they are educating me. It actually pisses me off.

Brin just listens and smiles and asks questions, and that’s what I like—someone who I can teach. This girl is making me dread going to the garage because of how dull it all sounds.

“Brin!” Ash calls cheerily as she makes her way toward her with a guy I’d like to punch.

Maybe she won’t leave with him. Then I can keep my sanity without making a scene.

***

BRIN

I can’t believe I let Maggie talk me into this. It’s so much harder than I thought it was going to be.

Rye’s date is stunningly beautiful, and even though he looked my way for a while, now his eyes are back on her—his perfect date—as he drinks the beer she brought him. He was probably pitying my pathetic attempt to blend in.

What was I thinking by wearing a sundress?

Ash finally makes it to me while pulling the arm of a guy who might as well have douchebag tattooed on his forehead. Great.

“Adam, this is Brin. Brin this is Adam,” Ash introduces, and I try to rein in my temper when I see his expression.

There are numerous things a guy can do that I don’t understand. There are several expressions I can’t decipher. But I know disappointment when I see it.

“Oh,” he says, forcing a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Liar.

Right now he’s secretly cursing Ash for inviting him here. My shoulder-length hair is light brown, and tonight it’s fixed. My eyes are actually a pretty cool blue most days. It’s like they shift. This is one of the good days, and he’s still not impressed.

Some of my features might be amazing on their own, but all together, they make a girl most guys consider ordinary. I’ve always been completely fine with that until I met Rye.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say quietly, somehow hiding the sigh on the tip of my tongue.

Ash frowns as she looks from me to Rye, but she can’t possibly know anything. I’m doing good at playing fine.

“Sorry about the sundress,” I murmur with a shrug. “I had to get ready quickly.”

Ash starts to say something, but douche boy beats her to it.

“I just found out about this ten minutes ago, and I managed to—”

“So,” Ash interrupts, “Adam, Brin is the assistant to the director at the museum. She’s witty, smart, funny, and completely unpredictable. Brin, Adam is climbing the ladder at Millington Inc. He’s an accountant and... um... new to the area?”

She acts like she knows nothing about him, and she turns on her heel to retreat. And what does he mean ten minutes ago? Ash said she had a date for me much earlier than that.

“How long have you been in Sterling Shore?” I ask him as a way of killing the awkward silence.

“Actually, I’ve been here for ten years, so I’m not sure what she meant by that,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

I don’t like him. In fact, I can tell what a major turd he is right now. With drop-dead gorgeous girls, guys work hard on a façade that could fool royalty. But with girls like me, they barely even try to mask their real selves.

“Ah, so Ash barely knows you.”

He tilts his head, checking out Ash’s ass as she walks away. What a dick.

“I met her the other day. She met with us about maybe changing accounting firms. I thought she was inviting me here for her,” he says while turning back around to meet my eyes.

Of course he did. This guy is just as average as me, so I’m not sure why the hell he’s acting so above my level. He looks a lot like John, and he’d be in the likely pool of datable prospects I could obtain—if he wasn’t such an arrogant prick.