11. She didn’t say, “I’m not over him.”
11
She didn’t say, “I’m not over him.”
Eden
The beefcake’s eyes bulged bigger than the muscles straining in his arms. He dropped his dumbbells on the mat. Smiled. Posed. Flexed to show me what he was packing. An unspoken offer to hook up if I’d ever seen one—and I’d seen plenty.
In your dreams, honey.
Grinning, I tossed my braid over my shoulder and bounced past the weights room, heading for spin class. My new fuchsia workout combo was magic. Yvette had tried to veto the bike shorts with a horrified, “Oh hell no,” but she’d been wrong. I twisted around to peek at my booty in the mirrored walls. Scorecard? Killin’ it.
A crowd of regulars huddled around the spin studio door. A commotion. I grinned. Sign me up.
“Accountant?” one of them asked in a whisper.
Another woman laughed. “I’d let him balance my books, if you know what I mean.” She winked.
I refused to be left out of the action. If there was eye candy to gobble up, I wanted in on it. I elbowed my way to the front but got stuck in the crowd.
“Ladies.” I popped onto my tiptoes. Ugh. I still couldn’t see a thing. “Is there a new guy in the class?”
“Doubt it in the sexy suit,” one of them giggled.
Sexy suit?
My stomach plummeted. Heaven, help me . I was about to suffer through Zach’s Shit Gift Attempt 2.0. I just knew it. Laughter threatened to burst out of me. Men were so predictable. Zach had been a ghost when we’d lived together. Forever at the office. After I’d moved out—whatta ya know—he was everywhere.
My high-tops squeaked on the shiny wooden floor as I threw a few more elbows to get to the doorway. I peered through the gap. And there he was. The heartbreaker.
“That’s no accountant,” I snipped.
Zach was about to wish he’d never been born.
With my head held high, I charged at him. “What are you doing here?”
Zach scrambled off the bench and stood tall, his shoulders too stiff. His shaking hand smoothed out the invisible wrinkles of his jacket. He straightened his tie. Smiled.
“Well?” I snapped.
“Oh, you know,” he said, trying to play it ultra cool. “Manly man things. Working out. Getting buff.”
I put a hand on my hip. “In a three-piece suit?”
“A gorgeous woman once told me a man in a suit is never overdressed.”
Me. I’d said that. I narrowed my eyes.
“I stopped by because I wanted to give you this.” Zach twisted around to grab his gift off the bench. The oversized pot in his hands burst with green—not flowers this time, but herbs. Basil, mint, and what was hopefully parsley and not cilantro. “It’s a housewarming present.”
I blinked.
“I know it’s not much,” he said. “I was at my parents’ place on the weekend, and Mum was tidying up her herbs.” He thrust the pot closer with a shaky smile. “I made it for you.”
My heart bounced a beat. Zach made me a gift. He’d been thinking about me enough to make me something. I couldn’t stop my hand from fluffing the green leaves sprouting from the dark, earthy soil. I inched closer to steal a sniff.
“Eden.” His eyes pleaded with me. “I’m trying.”
He was, and I hated it. Why couldn’t he have made this effort months ago? “It’s a bit late, don’t you think?”
He shook his head. “Not until you tell me it’s hopeless.” He turned his cheek, his lips flattening. Was he bracing himself for the impact of my stinging words? I was tempted to smack him with a few home truths. My gaze shifted back to the pot. But I wanted his gift so much more.
“There’s a card, too.” He nodded his head at the envelope hiding in all the green.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for another one of your cards,” I mumbled, plucking out the purple square. With one eye screwed shut, I opened it. Huh? The card was blank except for a lazy ‘Z’ written with his fancy fountain pen. There was one more thing inside.
I held up the stem of delicate purple flowers. “A sprig of lavender?”
He grinned. “It’s proof.”
“Of…?”
“My trip to Apartment 14C.”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat, my eyes darting everywhere. “Apartment 14C, you say?”
“You know what I’m talking about, little villain.” Zach chuckled with so much warmth my cheeks heated. “The old lady knocked on my door the morning after you left. She handed me a pair of her kitchen tongs and a garbage bag and instructed me to collect all the undergarments befouling her lavender. I did. Using the tongs. They’re my tongs now. Then her yappy little fluffball peed on my shoes. Twice.”
“Twice, huh?”
He grinned. “I found the lavender yesterday when I was catching up on some laundry. It was a good reminder of what she said to me when I left.”
“And what was that?”
“She told me I was a damn fool for not treating you right.”
“What did you say?”
“I agreed with her.”
I breezed through the back door into the salon’s kitchen. I was Sparkles the Unicorn, prancing over rainbows, nothing but smiles, holding a tray of coffees.
And Andie wasn’t buying it.
Her mocha on almond milk remained untouched in the cardboard tray. Frowning, her eyes locked on the pot of herbs sheltered in the crook of my other arm.
“What’s all the green shit?” she asked.
“Just some herbs.” I ducked past her laser eyes and slid the tray of coffees on the counter. The pot was next. I couldn’t resist rearranging the stems and fluffing the green leaves until they were picture-perfect.
“Did you stop by the markets this morning?”
“Ah, no.”
Andie’s eyes narrowed on the envelope stuffed in the leaves. The neat capital letters on the front were a dead giveaway. She’d seen enough of Zach’s shopping lists stuck on the fridge to recognise his writing.
“You saw the suit,” she said.
“He was at the gym.”
“You’ve got yourself a bit of a stalker.” She nodded at the card. “What’s it say?”
“N-Nothing.” I turned my body to shield my little pot of broken dreams.
“Tell that to your face.”
“Please. The gift, the card—they mean nothing. I’m totally unmoved.”
“Ed—”
“What?” I snapped. “My whole life turned upside down a few weeks ago. Do you want me to act like a robot? Pretend like I never cared about him?”
“I want you to stop pretending he cared about you!” She raked a hand through her hair. “Sorry . I just want you to remember why you left. Zach’s always working. Always . Even if we forget his side chick, think about why you schemed your way into his office in the first place. You were always running around after him. He hangs around the coffee shop a few times, gives you a jar of green shit, and you’re a heartbeat away from running around after his stupid arse all over again.”
“You make me sound like some dumb teenager.”
She scoffed. “You’re a lot damn smarter than most people give you credit for,” she said. “Ed, you’ve been running from some of these feelings for years—”
“Do not go there.”
Her lips flattened. “I’m just saying…” She sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you want to settle down and have a family when you never had one of your own. I get it. More than anyone, you know I get it. But that doesn’t mean you should let Zach walk all over you because he might treat you right one day.”
“I left him. Without a second thought, I left .”
“You were in shock and hurting really fucking bad. We both know leaving is the easy part when people treat us like shit. It’s the weeks—the fucking years —after that matter. Don’t lose yourself again because Zach’s finally decided to notice you. You’re worth so much more.”
The two of us stood on opposite sides of the kitchen with matching folded arms, glaring at each other. I hated this was happening between us. My frustration should never be directed at the woman who was truly my ride or die. That didn’t mean my stubborn pride would let me apologise, though.
Yvette wandered into the kitchen. She waved, all smiles, dumped her oversized bag on the counter, and plucked her coffee from the tray. Beats passed. She shot a questioning glance over the top of her coffee, first to me, then to Andie, and then back again.
“Totes awkward energy in here, ladies,” she said.
Andie grunted.
Yvette cocked her head at the pot. “Where’d that come from?”
“The suit,” Andie said.
“Finally stepping up, is he?” Yvette smiled. “I thought he might.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
Yvette snorted a laugh.
Andie shook her head. “You’re not over him, Ed.”
This again? “What else do I have to do? I’ve got my own place. I’m volunteering extra nights at the youth centre. I even tried that pottery class on the weekend!” My voice rose in full-on defensive mode. “I barely think about Zach at all.”
Yvette cackled. “Sweetie, you’re not convincing anyone in this room you’re over your big ol’ nerd.”
“Amen,” Andie muttered.
“I’m totally over him,” I said. “Just watch.” I whipped my phone out of my bag and opened the app store. My fingers whipped over the keyboard to type ‘dating.’
Yvette squealed with horror. “What are you doing?” Her hands snatched at the air, trying to grab my phone.
I dodged out of the way and hit download. “Zach isn’t the only man with a big dick in this city.” And I was counting on it. Some bedroom action with a suitable alternative might be the only way of grinding him out of my memory.
“Deenie, the idea has merit. The means , however.” Yvette scolded me with a tsk . “A woman like you doesn’t fish in the cesspool of a dating app. You’re a celebrity. A queen needs a king, not a, uh… Okay, I have no idea what sort of blob is dwelling at the bottom of a cesspool. Whatever it is, it’s stinky and ugly, and you should avoid it at all costs. What you need is a friend with connections.”
“Strongly disagree with this plan,” Andie said. “Jumping straight into another relationship is a bad idea.”
I laughed. “Who said anything about a relationship?” I wasn’t risking the brutal reality of intimacy again. I’d been onto a winner with short and casual. No strings meant no strings—no feelings, no false promises, no future. Just the way I liked it.
“Let’s test the water with something low stakes,” Yvette suggested. “How about a coffee or maybe a drink after work?”
“No,” Andie said.
“I’m suggesting a drink with a handpicked, eligible gentleman.” Yvette snorted. “I’m not telling Eden to bang the Australian cricket team or anything.”
“Let’s start with low stakes,” I said to Yvette. “You go ahead and fix me up with one of your kings. The sooner, the better.”
Andie threw her hands up.
I added, “No cricketers. Absolutely no lawyers.”
Yvette bounced on the spot, clapping her hands. “Actors? Crypto bros?”
“No to crypto bros.” Ninety percent of those guys were scammers or did nothing but talk about crypto. Snooze.
“Finance? Sports? What about rugby or tennis? I happen to know a very hot doubles player who’s just landed in the country.” Yvette waggled her eyebrows. “Thighs for days.”
“Choose whoever the hell you want,” I said. “Just make ’em hot and not dumb.”
Somewhere in the city, my old therapist was shaking her head. I was falling back into the same pattern of chaos, but anything was easier than facing reality.
Andie was right.
I wasn’t over Zach.