Chapter 35
Jayna knew it had never been real. But hearing Derek say it out loud stung. When she’d been assigned to the two men, the last person she expected to find with them was Derek. With their knack for finding trouble, Norm and Earl were frequent flyers to the ER. Usually, it was Rose or Norm’s son who brought them in.
Coming face to face with Derek in the exam room had hit her hard. After making such a fool of herself, she wanted to be prepared for their first encounter. Had he realized that her tears were genuine, that her heartbreak was real? Or did he think that, like the fake relationship she had suggested a month earlier, their breakup was just another act?
However, she had achieved her initial goal. Lance had asked her out yesterday, and tonight was their first official date. Sitting at a cozy table for two at Patty’s Pub should have had her feeling elated. This was exactly what she’d wanted.
This first date with Lance should have been perfect. And it almost was.
Almost.
Lance was incredibly handsome, with warm hazel-brown eyes and a strong, chiseled jaw. His dark blonde hair was cut in a stylish fade that he touched up frequently. He was perfectly groomed, from his hair to his collared shirt, free of any holes.
He was also smart, toned, tanned, and he smelled amazing—just the right amount of cologne. The man even chewed with his mouth closed, pulled out her chair, and was a great conversationalist.
On paper, he was perfect.
Yet she felt no tingles. Perhaps, though, tingles were overrated. Or maybe, sometimes, tingles took longer to develop. That could be it. She was accustomed to instant chemistry. Patience was needed.
Jayna knew that chemistry alone was not enough for a successful, long-term relationship. But damn, chemistry was so much fun.
In the past, she’d had chemistry with so many men and look where that got her. Nowhere. Case in point, she’d even had chemistry with Derek Brennan. Chemistry was truly deceptive if she could feel it with a man she hated. Or a man that she’d once hated because after spending so much time with him, she wasn’t sure that was true anymore. After lifting the curtain on his entire bad-boy act, the man had proven to have way more depth than she’d given him credit for. And wow, could he kiss!
Whoa, Jayna, get your head back in the game, she silently reprimanded herself. Lance was the prize she’d worked so hard for. And she’d won. He was a great catch. Leaning over, she lightly brushed her lips across his. He startled, but then deepened the kiss.
Wait for it.
Come on, tingles.
She wiggled her toes.
Nothing.
She pressed her lips harder against his, and he reciprocated. His lips were soft, firm, and tingle-free.
As the kiss ended, she leaned back in her chair. It had been a decent kiss. He didn’t slobber. It wasn’t overly wet or too dry, and he had fresh, minty breath. The kiss was nice. But the Bunsen burner didn’t light.
Maybe it just needed more fuel.
“Hey Ivy, can I have another margarita, please? Do you want another cranberry and vodka?” she asked Lance, trying not to cringe as she said it. Who the hell other than twenty-something university girls ordered cranberry and vodka? Lance was going to get kicked out of the boys’ club if he wasn’t careful.
And speaking of the boys’ club, in walked Derek Brennan, the head of it. He wore stonewashed jeans and a stony face. The bad boy looked like he was in a bad mood tonight as his eyes flicked over her. But damn, he made a tattered T-shirt look good.
Head in the game, Jayna girl.
Lance Roman was the man for her.
Derek Brennan was the man for no one. That was a fact she needed to remember.
Derek broke her heart once and once was more than enough. He was her past, and Lance was her present. Lance was her wonderful, incredible future.
But hell, if her past wasn’t heading straight toward her present.
No way!
Turn the hell around, Brennan, her eyes shot a silent warning in his direction.
Derek’s grin only increased, and damn if it didn’t cause the Bunsen burner to light.
“Evening,” he said. His voice was low and gravelly, scraping her insides in the most delicious way. And it just wasn’t fair. She was sitting with Mr. Right, trying hard to feel something, anything. And up walks Mr. Completely Wrong, and all the feels start up.
“I’m Derek,” he held out his hand to Lance, who glanced up, confusion showing before he accepted the hand.
“Lance Roman. Nice to meet you.”
“No hard feelings that you stole my girl.” Derek winked.
Oh no, he didn’t! She shot another death stare his way.
“I didn’t steal her.” Lance’s eyes narrowed. “She broke up with you.”
“True. Can’t say that I blame her. I’m not the relationship kind of guy,” Derek stated. He didn’t appear overly fazed by her continued penetrating glare. “Just know, you have a great girl.”
Derek shifted his stare straight at her, and she gulped. “If I was cut out for relationships, I’d be putting up a fight to win her back.”
Lance cleared his throat. “Well, I guess it’s good you’re not. I’m not the fighting kind of guy.”
Of course, he wouldn’t be. Lance was too much of a gentleman. The guy truly was perfect.
“I won’t interrupt you any longer. Enjoy your date.” Derek shot her a blinding smile, popping that lopsided dimple. The flame on the Bunsen burner shot straight up.
Derek is not the man for me. She repeated the new mantra. If she repeated it enough times, hopefully it would become true.
“I see there is some fresh talent at the bar,” Derek pointed to the three pretty women seated on bar stools, all stealing glances in his direction. “Think I’ll stroll over and make one or two of their nights.”
He was so not the man for her! What an ego! The guy was completely full of himself.
“I’m sure they will love to have their night ruined.” The snarky words escaped her lips. Why did she let him get to her?
“Oh, baby, it will be the night of their lives.”
She made a gagging sound, which she quickly muffled behind a loud cough as Lance shot a disapproving glance her way.
Jess’s words came back: Smooth the rough edges. Lance wanted a woman with class. And she could be classy. Her mother had sent her to debutante school. She had manners coming out of her yin-yang. She had been born with the proverbial golden spoon in her mouth. It was the very mouth that was often foul and smart.
My perfect guy wouldn’t care; he’d love me for who I am . She dismissed the thought as quickly as it went through her mind.
She could do this. Her eyes narrowed, watching Derek as he pulled out a bar stool next to the pretty redhead. His hand was on her lower back as he leaned in close, listening to the pointless chatter that was probably coming out of her far-too-glossy, full lips. No way those lips were not hyaluronic acid injected, or maybe the plastic surgeon had used fat taken from her ass to plump up her lips. When Derek kissed Red, he’d be kissing her ass. The thought made her snort and caused Lance to send her another shocked look.
She let out another cough. “I hope I’m not coming down with a cold. ”
Jealous. You’re jealous. That internal voice ranted. She forcefully looked away from the redhead twit, who was trying too hard to be sexy. She forced her eyes away from Derek, who was enjoying every second of the woman’s attention. How was she jealous of Derek Brennan? What the hell?
Pathetic. You’re pathetic . That internal voice again. She needed to change to a rational, more reasonable internal dialogue—one that wouldn’t sabotage the good thing she had going now. She had a chance at a healthy relationship with a man who wanted the same. It was time to stop wasting time with men where there was no future.
She needed to stop being that person who always wanted what she couldn’t have. She had to stop being that person who changed her mind about what she wanted the minute she got it. That was messed up. It was self-sabotage.
Get over it. Get over him. Lance is a great guy . This was the voice she needed to listen to. This was the voice of reason. Lance Romance was the guy for her.
Damn it. Now Derek had her calling him Lance Romance.
Damn that man to hell!
It was time to grow up. Time to make smart decisions. It was time to start adulting. Lance Romance it was. Her forehead creased.
“Is something wrong, Jayna?” Lance asked.
“No, everything is perfect,” she smiled. Or close enough. She wasn’t missing anything by letting Derek go.