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Her hair was the color of dark chocolate and curled into soft waves, falling past her shoulders. I made it all the way to her face before I recognized her. The glasses threw me off. Black rimmed, hipster glasses were tucked beneath her bangs, giving her a sexy yet studious look.

I didn’t want to see Ruby again. Ever.

My scars from her had healed, or so I thought. Her gorgeous eyes, hidden behind the thick lenses, peered at me, and it tore open the wound so it was as fresh as the moment I’d driven away from Chicago.

“Kyle?” she’d said.

Her face flooded with shock, followed instantly with contempt. Our time apart hadn’t softened her feelings toward me either, it seemed.

Fine with me, I lied to myself. I could pretend the woman across the table meant absolutely nothing, even though she’d crushed me. Jesus, she was still crushing me now with those pouty lips and fire blazing in her eyes.

I’d held it together until the end of the meeting. Tension and unease grew with every moment Ruby came closer to walking out the door. What if I never saw her again? Was this how I wanted my last memory of her to be? She put her things away in a hurry.

“Ruby, do you have a minute?”

She shook her head, refusing to look at me, and it made me angry. How could she say no to one lousy conversation, after all this time? With what we’d had, didn’t she owe me at least that?

Her denial made my skin burn hot, and I couldn’t contain my frustration, so it came out more forceful than I wanted. “Ruby, a word.”

“Yeah? How about fuck you.”

Awesome. Add that to the list of sweet nothings she’d lobbed at me.

I watched her storm out, and after her boss’s unnecessary apology, I was left alone in the room with Courtney, who perked one eyebrow upward.

“That was a nice change of pace,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Usually it’s the husband who’s cussing at me.”

Courtney gave a sad smile.

I’d spent the rest of the day in my office, trying not to let Ruby’s angry voice ring in my head. I also forced myself not to seek out her email address from her firm’s website. I’d heard a joke once that an app existed where anytime you tried to call your ex, the phone would play Nickelback.

I didn’t download it, but whenever I got the urge to hunt for her contact info, I hummed “How You Remind Me” as punishment, and it seemed to work. But I could not stop thinking about her. Ruby Carter dominated not just my waking thoughts. I’d nearly flung the alarm clock across the room yesterday when it interrupted my dream moments before sinking my dick into a wet and waiting Ruby.

“What’s with the face?” Payton asked, drawing me back to the Christmas party. Her scolding gaze was fixated on me. “Still pissed about the white elephant game?”

I glanced at the box where I’d set the cooking apron decorated with a lobster body and the two matching claw oven mitts. “What do you mean?” I said. “I love it. I’m so relieved no one stole it from me.”

Payton grinned and plopped down on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She brought up the picture she’d taken when I’d modeled my prize, and zoomed in on my face, complete with idiotic expression. “See how awesome you look in it?”

“If you show it to anyone else, you’re dead to me.”

“Ooh.” She faked a sheepish look. “Yeah, I Instagramed that shit twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay, well, it was nice knowing you.”

Payton pocketed her phone and gave me her full attention. “Let’s talk New Year’s resolutions.”

“I don’t need any. I’m already perfect.”

“Ha!” She practically snorted. “That’s not what those products on your bathroom counter say.”

This again? I blinked slowly. “That’s the kettle calling the pot black. There’s at least as much shit on yours as there is mine.”

“I’m a woman. That’s normal for me. Is that why you don’t have a girlfriend? Are you worried she’d be crushed under an avalanche of metrosexual products if she stays at your place?”

Dominic lingered nearby, listening in. “Payton, it’s Christmas Eve. Cut him some slack.” As my brother-in-law took a swig of his beer, I was somewhat grateful he was on my side. That was, until he added, “Maybe looking good doesn’t come as easy to your brother as it does for me.”

“Asshole,” I said. “We know who’s better looking. I have the dollar to prove it.”


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