With a deep, shuddering breath, she turned away from him.
A second passed before he cleared his throat. “I guess I should be going.”
She nodded. “That’s probably best.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BLAKE
If Blake could sum up in one word the status of his life, it would be screwed.
He lay in bed Saturday night, staring at the ceiling, wishing sleep would claim him, if only for a reprieve from his swirling thoughts and the gift of a fresh perspective. But instead, his mind churned, mostly occupied with one thing. Mel—the one person he shouldn’t be thinking about.
For
the millionth time, he tried to redirect his thoughts to Jen and failed. He should be thinking about how the dinner party went wrong and what he could do to mend the situation. But every time he thought of her, he veered right back to Mel.
He connected with her in a way he never had with Jen. He felt something tonight. Something real and raw and . . . different. Mel could relate to him in ways Jen never could. They connected on a level he wasn’t sure Jen was capable of. There was this kinetic, intrinsic, bone-deep pull he felt toward her he couldn’t explain.
As Blake rolled onto his side and pounded a fist in his pillow, he realized the only regret he had for the evening wasn’t walking out on Jen or upsetting her. It was not kissing Mel. And that was a problem.
BLAKE PACED THE LIVING room of his apartment, ruffling his hair with his hands. Grant sat across from him, sprawled like a cat on his sofa, drinking his craft beer, staring at him with an annoying smirk.
“So I take it your little meeting with Jen didn’t go so well?”
Blake paused and glared at him. “Obviously.”
“What happened? Did she throw a hissy fit over the lobster bisque?” Grant grinned.
“Can we be serious?”
Grant raised his hands. “Sorry.”
Blake crossed his arms over his chest. “I met her for lunch, which was a mistake because I should’ve given it another day.” Or another month. “Because I was still thinking about Mel and annoyed about Jen’s dad. And I guess I thought maybe we’d both take some culpability in the crappy evening, but she wasn’t apologetic at all. In fact, she was furious with me for leaving her. Apparently, she saw no need to defend me and continues to insist her father means well and was joking.”
“Dude, I hate to say it, but what did you expect?”
“I already told you.” Blake blinked at him like he was stupid. “I expected her to apologize for her dad being an A-class jerk, maybe admit she should’ve said something to him. Then I would’ve apologized for leaving and making a scene.”
Grant took a long pull from his beer, wagging his finger back and forth in front of him. “No. People like the Garwoods never admit they’re wrong. It’s not in their nature. Even if they are, they have enough money to pass along the blame. She’s always going to be Daddy’s Little Girl because Daddy is funding her posh lifestyle.”
“She’s not like that.”
Grant arched a brow and shot him a look he clearly read as Isn’t she?
Blake sighed and headed for the couch, snatching up the beer in Grant’s hand on his way. “Hey!” he protested, but Blake ignored him and sunk back into the couch.
With a sigh, Grant heaved himself up and reappeared several minutes later with a fresh bottle.
What Blake hadn’t told Grant about last night’s dinner party was Jen’s comment about working for her father after they were married. He’d flip, and then immediately throw him the “I told you so” card. But it wasn’t just that Grant was right and Blake was wrong that ate at him. It was the fact that deep down, Blake feared Jen felt the same way about Blake’s career as her father did. That she really did want him to leave his business behind and take some cushy desk job if they got married.
Blake would rather jump off the Empire State Building.
“So, what of this Mel chick?” Grant asked, breaking the silence. “I assume she’s part of this.”
Blake sighed and took a sip of beer before answering. “You could say that.”
“So spill.”