Losing Mr. Right

by Natalie Charles

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Oh. You like it when women cry?” I snapped, and then winced. “God. What is wrong with me? Why did I say that to you? You’re being so nice.”

  “Because you’re angry, and you know that I’m not going to insult you back.” Brett cautiously wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Come on. That party sucked.”

  I sputtered a laugh through my tears. “Yeah. It did.” I swept a hand under my nose. I was so classy. “The cake looked good, though. I was planning to have, like, two pieces.”

  Brett’s face lit up. “Do you want to go get some cake?”

  “No,” I said, laughing at the offer. “It’s better that I don’t eat two pieces of cake tonight. I’ll only end up hating myself.”

  “You shouldn’t hate yourself over cake.” He pulled me closer against his side. “I was so angry that he was talking to you like that,” he whispered. “When you left, it took everything I had not to punch him in his smug face.”

  A man had never almost punched someone over me. I sort of felt warm inside at the thought of Brett defending my honor. “I’ve never seen him like that before. He’s not usually that way.”

  But after I said it, I wondered if that was true. Chase had always had an asshole streak, but it wasn’t usually directed at me. I frowned as I thought of some of our past conversations. “You know, he’s actually not very nice to women, even the ones he’s dated before. He calls them names. Bitch. Slut.” I shook my head. “He’s called Jackie things I can’t repeat.” Now that I thought about it, why hadn’t that bothered me? Why hadn’t I cut him off years ago? Why had I foolishly assumed he wouldn’t direct that same anger toward me?

  When we reached the Prius, Brett opened my door and waited for me to get inside. Even though the sun was just starting to set and the temperature outside was high, the car was still cool from the air-conditioned ride over. I was staring at my hands in my lap when Brett climbed inside, closed the door, and said, “You really have feelings for him, don’t you? Real feelings.”

  “Yeah.” Ouch. The tears in my eyes welled again. I rested a hand against my heart, because it hurt so badly. “I don’t know.” If I were a better person, the answer would have been different. If I were a better person, I wouldn’t spend time on someone like Chase. “You must think I’m horrible.”

  “That thought didn’t enter my mind.”

  Brett was staring out the windshield. He looked kind of sad, and that tore at my heart. If you were a better person, you wouldn’t hurt Brett by letting him know you have feelings for Chase. This is why you always fuck things up. “We’ve known each other for a long time,” I added, trying to dilute my confession. “It’s … I had old feelings. Not now. And he’s so mean,” I growled, fisting my hands until my nails dug into my palms. “I never realized how cruel he could be. Why didn’t I ever realize that? I’m so stupid.”

  Now Brett turned to face me. “You beat yourself up a lot. Why is that?”

  “Because there’s something wrong with me. There’s a reason no one wants to be in a relationship with me for more than a few months.” The tears were streaming again, coming so quickly that there was no sense in trying to wipe them away. “I mean, look at me. Carrying around feelings for a man who’s engaged. He’s going to be a father. What does that say about me?”

  I had been so smug about bringing a date tonight, hoping it would needle Chase to see me with another man. I’d tried on every dress in my closet until I found the one I was wearing, and I chose it because it was short and the waist was tight. I had applied my makeup perfectly and spent time styling my hair into loose waves. All of this effort so that I could go to an engagement party and make the groom-to-be regret that he was marrying the mother of his child. Jesus. “What kind of a person am I?”

  It was a rhetorical question that I would gladly answer myself. I was a slut. I was a whore. I was a woman without morals. A would-be home wrecker. Chase—for once in his life—was doing the decent thing by marrying Jackie, and what was I trying to do in response?

  “When I found out he was engaged, I told him I loved him.” I tipped my head back to make my confession to the ceiling of the car. The words needed to be said out loud, but I couldn’t bring myself to see the response on Brett’s face. “I wanted him to choose me. I am a terrible person.”

  I closed my eyes and felt the shame. I’d told myself that this was love, and that was how I’d justified it. I loved him, and I deserved my chance at happiness. There are so many ways to justify selfishness, and I was pretty much an expert.

  Brett’s hand closed around mine. “You’re none of the names he’s called you, Mindy. He’s been telling you lies about yourself for years.”

  “I guess I’m stupid enough to believe him.”

  “No, you trusted him to tell you the truth. You cared about him. But that’s not the truth, Mindy.” He tightened his grip around my hand. “I’m sorry you’re hurting so much. Love can make us do strange things.”

  His hand felt nice in mine. Large, strong, and slightly rough. I squeezed his palm. “It’s not love, I don’t think. I don’t know.”

  “Whatever it is, it can make you feel desperate.”

  “Yes.” I caught my breath and stared at our hands. “But he doesn’t love me back, so it doesn’t matter. And it’s over. Just … no more.”

  No more making an effort for Chase. He didn’t deserve my time and he didn’t deserve me. I hoped—genuinely hoped—that he would find happiness with Jackie. “I feel bad for her,” I whispered.

  Brett seemed to know exactly who I was talking about. “Me too,” he said. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

  I nodded. He slipped his hand out of mine, started the car, and backed away.

  BRETT

  SITTING IN the car, listening to her talk about her feelings for Chase, I should’ve felt my ego surging. I should have driven her home and told her to have a nice life, find someone else to use. But I couldn’t do that. I cared about her too much. I wanted her to stay in my life, even if she was scrambled at the moment.

  She was talking about Chase. Maybe she was being honest, or maybe she was trying to spare my feelings. I wondered what she saw in him. I didn’t know what I was feeling, either. Something difficult to define. All I knew was that being near Mindy—even when she was crying in my car—was where I wanted to be. “Whatever it is, it can make you feel desperate.”

  Desperate to be special to her. Desperate to be close to her. Desperate to change her mind and open her eyes. And desperate to go somewhere else. I was glad when I finally got back to the highway.

  Mindy opened her purse and pulled out a cell phone. “I have to text my friend Lettie. She was supposed to meet me there. I wanted her to meet you.”

  The comment registered and bounced off. I wanted her to meet you was a polite thing to say, that was all. I turned on the radio while she focused on her phone, but I couldn’t find anything to listen to. The truth is, I was agitated by the things Chase had said. Agitated and paranoid, because how much of it was true? I didn’t have any right to ask Mindy about her sexual history. The questions lingered. Had she come on to Chase a couple weeks ago? What was their relationship, exactly? Mindy was sexy. She’d made clear that she was interested in a physical relationship. Maybe I should go for it. But I’d always hated myself after one-night stands. There was so much awkwardness.

  Beside me, she sniffed. “I have a box of tissues in the back,” I said. “I should’ve offered them sooner.”

  “Thanks.” She reached into the back seat and brought the box onto her lap. Then she pulled down the visor to check her reflection in the mirror. “Holy shit. I look like a zombie.” She yanked five tissues out and scrubbed at her face. “It’s supposed to be waterproof mascara. Can you believe it? Now I have clumps everywhere.”

  We were heading down the highway, going back to West Portsmouth. Driving along the Connecticut shoreline felt like stepping back into time. Off the highway, the road
s wind and twist through quiet residential areas punctuated by carousels and ice cream parlors. “Are you hungry?”

  “Eh.” She licked her fingers and wiped beneath her eye. “Did you have something in mind?”

  “Do you like lobster rolls?”

  “I’m from Boston, aren’t I?”

  Was that a yes? New Englanders were so odd. “There’s that place we can go to where you eat by the water.”

  “Abbott’s,” she said. “Sure. Let’s go. I know right where it is from here.”

  Before I’d bought my place in West Portsmouth, I’d been to this part of the world only once. My mom was giving a lecture at Yale as part of a conference, and my parents thought they should make a family vacation of it. We rented a house in West Portsmouth but ventured out to some of the other shoreline towns, like Old Saybrook and Madison. “My parents took us here when we were kids. Me and my brother,” I added.

  “David.”

  Man, had I pushed a lot of things down. I never talked about David. Even mentioning him out loud created a pressure in my throat. Mindy set her hand over mine.

  Abbott’s is located right beside the Mystic River. It’s a white shack of a restaurant, and you can order at the window and sit outside at picnic tables. Quintessential New England. We parked the car, ordered two lobster rolls, and sat on the end of the pier. “Nice night,” Mindy said as she crouched to sit beside me.

  Dusk had settled and a bright white moon was rising. Our thighs were touching and it was so distracting I couldn’t even eat. I was preoccupied with the shifting of her body, the feel of her muscles tensing and releasing against me as she stretched her long legs out. A breeze blew past us. “This was a good idea,” she said. She smelled pretty.

  “I have those sometimes.”

  Our bare arms brushed. She was warm and smooth. This was a terrible idea. The lobster was great, but I’d lost my appetite because all of my blood was going to my groin.

  Mindy cleared her throat. “Look, I think I should say something about what happened with Chase.” She stuck a finger into the roll in her hand and pulled out a chunk of lobster covered in mayonnaise. “I don’t want you to feel like I invited you to the party to make Chase jealous. That was a mean thing for him to say.”

  My stomach tensed again. “You don’t need to explain anything.”

  “I do, though. Because I don’t want you to feel hurt.”

  “I don’t feel hurt.” I bumped her shoulder, hoping she would smile. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m tough.”

  Now that the sun had almost set, the evening was cooling. A seagull landed on the pier and approached us questioningly. “Here.” Mindy tossed him a piece of her roll. “Now leave!” The seagull gulped down the bread and waited for more.

  “You realize he’s not going to take orders, right?”

  She grinned and said with a shrug, “What can I say? I like to be in charge.” She paused. “And I really like you, Brett.”

  Her voice softened, but it wasn’t the come-on that I’d seen before from Mindy. That flirtation had felt artificially sultry, like she was looking for a reaction. This felt … real. So much for eating. My stomach fluttered with crazy butterflies, like I was a teenager again. She made me nervous. She made me want to be better. I felt like a kid around her, and not always in the most comfortable way. But she made me feel new.

  “I like you, too.”

  Touch her. Close the deal, asshole. But I had a half-eaten lobster roll in my hand. I tossed it to the seagull, but another gull came running and a fight ensued. Mindy shrieked, giggling as one of the gulls took off right near her head with my lobster roll. Then, while she was laughing, the other gull—the loser—came up and snatched the rest of her dinner right out of her hand. “He took my dinner!” She started laughing so hard that she couldn’t catch her breath. She doubled over on the pier, clutching her stomach, her eyes tightly closed.

  Watching her, I began laughing, too. “You okay there?” Now my hands were free and I could pull her closer to my side. She leaned into me and her soft hair tickled my face. “You want me to get you another lobster roll?”

  Mindy was laughing too hard to answer. She shook her head and wiped a tear coming from her eye. “No. Oh my gosh, that was hilarious.”

  She turned so that we were facing each other and rested one hand beside my thigh. She’d cried off all of her makeup and her hair was blowing against her bare shoulders. She was still catching her breath when I reached up to comb my fingers through her dark hair. “Mindy. You are so incredibly beautiful.”

  I’d thought so from the moment I’d seen her, approaching her driveway with a frozen pizza and a pint of ice cream. I’d wondered at that moment whether a woman like her would ever see anything in me. Now I saw her brown eyes soften and her gaze lower to my mouth. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to.

  I leaned closer and touched my lips to hers, feeling her warm breath. She moaned softly and set my head spinning. As we kissed, her tongue darted between my lips and back again. Her body relaxed, but mine definitely stiffened. I pulled her closer, tightening my fingers in her hair. I wanted to bury everything in her. Forget it all, just for a little while.

  Eventually she set her hand against my chest and pulled back to say, “I’m a little cold.”

  I was, too, but that wasn’t about to stop me. “Want me to take you home?”

  “Yes.” She set the palm of her hand against my face. “But I hope you’ll come inside.”

  “As long as your man-hating dog is still gone.” She smiled at that and looked down demurely. I was falling so hard.

  MINDY

  WE WENT back to the cottage and I shut the door and locked it. The lights were off, but I saw Brett’s shape against the moonlight streaming through the windows. I reached out for him and found the hard wall of his chest. I lifted the bottom of his shirt to press my fingers to the skin underneath. A sigh escaped his lips and he pulled me into a kiss.

  I wasn’t kidding when I said that Brett was a great kisser. His lips were soft and his tongue was skilled, and it was almost a tease to be kissed this way when I needed him so badly. Just screw me already. My knees softened and I stumbled against him, gripping his waist for support. Brett leaned his back against the wall and brought my legs to straddle one of his. I loved the feel of his hard muscles between my thighs.

  “Touch me,” I whispered, and brought his hand to my bare leg, lifting the hem of my dress to assist him. “Please.”

  His touch was strong and self-assured. He kneaded the tops of my thighs before cupping my ass and slipping his fingers beneath the waist of my thong. Brett groaned and fell to his knees. In the moonlight I saw him lick his fingers before sliding them between my legs. “You want this, sweetheart?”

  Like I could answer. I braced my hands against the wall above his head as he circled my clit with his fingertip, feeling wave after wave of heat course through my blood. “Yes,” I gasped.

  I clenched his fingers when he stuck them inside. He pulled them in and out and I met each movement with my hips, closing my eyes to focus on the feel of him inside of me. Just as the tension started to build, Brett brought his face between my legs. I moaned against him as his tongue and his fingers played me, slowly at first, then meeting each desperate move of my hips. I screamed his name when I came moments later, my knees buckling against him. He chuckled as he stood. “That was okay?”

  I could barely catch my breath to answer. He was fumbling at the front of his pants. “Condoms. In the bedroom,” I said.

  “Let’s go.”

  I was shaking, which wasn’t like me at all. I found a condom in my dresser drawer and then sat on the edge of the bed, my face level with his hips. “Your turn,” I said.

  His impressive erection was visible through his pants. I released the button and pulled the zipper down slowly before reaching inside the fabric. He was hard, thick, and ready. I pulled him into my mouth, sliding up and down his length a few times and del
ighting in his groan. Then I handed him the condom and pulled off my dress.

  I was no sooner naked than he was on top of me, thrusting deep, in and out. I arched my back as the chills ran down my spine, pulling him closer. I needed him like I’d never needed anyone. Again the tension built as he took his time, teasing me, stopping to touch, nip, and lick. Then he brought his head to my breast and pulled my nipple into his mouth, sucking as he quickened his thrusts. I came again just as he stiffened and groaned against my breast, his body covered in sweat.

  We lay intertwined like that, him inside of me, catching our breath. And all I could think was that it was perfect. How for a few brief moments, I’d forgotten everything.

  CHAPTER 13

  MINDY

  BRETT WAS DRESSING when I woke. “You’re leaving?” I propped myself up onto an elbow and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “I left your money on the dresser.”

  “Hilarious.” He pulled on the red polo he’d worn last night and kissed me on the top of the head. “I hate to run. I’ve got a walk with a client in an hour.”

  He was wearing only black boxers and his red shirt, and just the sight of him stirred me. I reached forward to grab the inside of his thigh. “Cancel. Tell them you’re sick.”

  “You have no idea how tempting that is.” He sucked in a breath when I tried to slip my hand inside his boxers; then he grabbed my wrist. “Babe, I can’t.”

  I pouted and rolled over. “You’re no fun.”

  “That’s not what you were saying a few hours ago.”

  “I only said it to make you feel good.”

  I stretched out and yawned, admiring the view as Brett dressed. I thoroughly enjoyed every inch of him, from his thick, dark hair to his muscular frame. And wow, had I been right to try to get him in bed. He was incredible.

  The bed shifted as he sat on the edge to pull on his shoes. “If that’s the way you feel, then I guess you won’t mind if I don’t come over again tonight.”