When Lucas thought he’d lost Jill a few months ago, he’d drunk himself into a stupor. Steve frowned. “I’m not in your situation.”
“Aren’t you?”
Steve didn’t answer. The truth was he didn’t really know.
They drove to an Italian restaurant across town so there was no chance of running into Michelle and Brent, who must have stayed downtown since they’d walked. They ate pasta and talked about casual things, and Steve did end up feeling a little better.
They were just finishing up when Lucas finally asked, “You’ll tell me if you’re going to have a breakdown or something, right?”
“A breakdown?”
“The way I did with Jill. Fall apart completely. You’ll tell me if you feel one coming?”
Steve gave his friend a tired, ironic smile. “Yeah. I’ll tell you. I don’t think I’m going to have a breakdown. I’ve just... lost her.”
“But maybe not forever.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It feels like forever. She’s like a new person, and she thinks I don’t know and love the person she’s turned into.”
Lucas was frowning thoughtfully. “So maybe you get to know her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, get to know the new person she is. If she doesn’t think you know who she is now, then you can get to know her. Start from the beginning.”
Steve blinked. “The beginning?”
Lucas made a gesture with his hand. “Am I speaking a foreign language or something? Talk to her again. Hang out with her again. Don’t put any pressure on it, and just see what happens. Isn’t that an obvious thing to do if you want to get to know someone?”
“She might not want me to...” He trailed off. She’d said she missed him. It seemed like maybe she did want to spend time with him again. “Maybe.”
“It has to be real though. She’s going to know if you’re just putting on an act to get back into bed with her. So be real. Be her friend. See if anything else develops. At this point, it’s the only thing I see working, unless you’re ready to get over her.”
“I don’t think I can. Get over her.”
“So try this.”
Steve felt a spark of hope for the first time in a month, like there might be some long, wandering path back to Michelle.
He didn’t care how long it was.
He didn’t care how many curves and detours it took.
If there was a way in the world back to Michelle, then he was going to take it.
Seven
THE NEXT MORNING, MICHELLE didn’t have to be at work until ten, so she got up early and started writing a short paper that was due in one of her classes next week.
She’d already made some progress when Steve came out in his flannel pajama pants. He mumbled a good morning as he got the newspaper from downstairs, brewed his coffee, and then, to her surprise, sat down at the kitchen island.
He hadn’t sat with her in the mornings alone for the past month.
She was ridiculously happy about the fact that he was now.
“What are you working on?” he asked, opening the newspaper but not starting to read it yet.
“A paper that’s due in one of my classes, on one of the education theories we’re going over. It’s short, and the theory is pretty easy to grasp, so it shouldn’t take long. I want to get it done this morning so it’s not hanging on me all weekend.”
“Good plan.” He hesitated. “How was your date?”
She checked his face and saw no sign of bitterness or resentment in his jaw or his blue eyes. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I had a good time. He’s a nice guy. But there’s definitely no potential there.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” Then, because he was so clearly listening without judgment, she added, “To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure he knew it was a date.”
“Really?” he asked with a breathy laugh. “How did he miss that?”
“He thought it was just a friend thing. I mean, I guess it was. He never for a moment thought about me as anything else.”
Steve was frowning slightly and scanning her face. “Well, give it some time. If you’re interested—”
“I’m not interested. I’m really not. I never was. I just figured he was single and he was... there. I’m terrible with men.”
“You are not.”
“Yes, I am. No, don’t argue. I’m not putting myself down. I can be a good girlfriend, but it’s getting to the point of being someone’s girlfriend that I’m clueless about.”
His face relaxed, like he understood what she was trying to say. “You did just fine with me.”
Affection tightened in her throat as she looked at him, rumpled and unshaven and wearing those ridiculous pajama pants and still holding his antiquated paper newspaper. This was who he really was—kind and warm and open and old-fashioned. Despite all her resolutions, despite all her attempts to start new, he still looked and felt like hers.
She said, “I did fine with you because I didn’t have to do anything. I just sat at that table on the food court, and you didn’t move until I talked to you.”
“Well. See? You talked to me. You did fine.”
“Only because you were so stubborn. Most guys wouldn’t have come back even the second day without any encouragement.”
“A guy who wants you enough would,” he murmured, his expression flickering briefly to one that felt deep, intimate.
It was gone so quickly she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it.
“I guess. But it’s going to get really old sitting around and waiting for him to appear. I want to...”
“What do you want to do, Michelle?”
“I want to be able to go out there and find a guy myself. Not just wait around.”
She couldn’t believe she was actually talking about this with Steve, but he didn’t seem upset about it. He was listening and nodding like he wanted to hear more. “I can help you if you want.”
She put down her coffee cup. “What do you mean?”
“If you want help approaching guys. I can help you. I’m a guy.”
“I know you’re a guy. And thank you for the offer. But wouldn’t it be... be weird for you.”
“No. It would be fine. I want to be your friend, if you’ll let me. If you need help with this, then I can help you.”
She had no way to disbelieve him. His eyes were open. His jaw relaxed. “You sure it wouldn’t be awkward? We can be friends without you having to do something like this.”
“I don’t mind.” He met her eyes. “I want you to have and do everything you want. If this is what you want, then I’m there.”
She swallowed hard at a sudden wave of emotion. “Okay. Thanks. But just so you know, I want you to have and do everything to. And if this isn’t it...”
“It is. So can we do it? We can find a bar or something, and you can practice.”
“Practice?”
“With guys.”
She swallowed again, for a different reason this time. “Shit. You’re going to make me really work on this, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
THAT EVENING, MICHELLE and Steve went to a cute little downtown bar. Since it was the summer, it wasn’t very crowded, so they had plenty of room to find a good position for scoping out the place without being crowded against a bunch of college students.
Michelle was wearing a pair of snug black capris and a sleeveless gray-blue top. It was as sexy an outfit as she could pull off without feeling stupid about it.
She’d seen other women dress bold and sexy all the time, and she always thought they looked great. But if she dressed in those same outfits, she wouldn’t have been able to leave the house.
She’d come to the conclusion that it wasn’t a failing on her part. People were different, and she just didn’t want to dress in skintight tops and barely there skirts. She could still
be attractive. She could still be sexy—if it was with the right person.
Even after a month, she got turned on in an instant whenever she thought about having sex with Steve that last time. A year ago, she’d never have believed she was capable of being sexy and adventurous like that.
She didn’t need to dress sexy to be sexy. She had to find her own way to make it work.
Steve seemed to think she looked good, and she was nervous and excited as they found a table. Steve had gotten a beer, and she’d gotten a glass of rosé. There were about twenty other people in the bar, more than half of them men.
“Okay,” Steve said. “Who do you see that you want to start with?”
“I don’t know.” She gave him a suspicious look. “How are you thinking I’ll be starting?”
“I thought you wanted to learn how to approach a guy.”
“I do.”
“So pick someone out to approach.” He was half smiling, appearing to make a game out of this.
It made her feel better. Made it less scary.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly, looking around. “I’m not going to go up to a guy who’s already with a woman. Obviously.”
“Obviously. So who else?”
Scanning the room, she saw two groups of three or four guys and then three guys sitting alone. “Someone who’s by himself, I think.”
“That would probably be easier. So which one.”
“How can I tell which one will be most receptive?”
Steve’s eyebrows went up. “I could help you with that, but is that really what you want? Just whatever guy happens to be easiest?”
Her lips parted as she thought about that. “No,” she admitted. “I guess not.”
“So which guy looks most interesting to you?”
She looked around again. Of the three guys sitting alone, only one was remotely interesting to her. One must be close to fifty. The one that was most good-looking had a hard look about him that she just didn’t like. But the third one looked like a graduate student. Her kind of person. He had glasses and was drinking a beer and messing with his phone.
“That one?” Steve asked.
She nodded.
“So go and talk to him.”
She gave him an indignant huff. “What kind of help is that? What am I supposed to say?”
“It really doesn’t matter what you say.”
“Of course it does. I’ll say something stupid. This guy is just a random guy, but what if I was really interested in someone? I can’t just go up and say something stupid.”
Steve chuckled and leaned toward her. She was suddenly washed with a wave of deep attraction. So deep her cheeks flushed, her groin clenched.
He was wearing jeans and a black crew-neck shirt, but he seemed more man than normal right now. More everything. More Steve.
And he’d always been who she wanted the most.
He didn’t appear to notice her distraction. He said, “I’m going to tell you something important, Michelle. So listen up. If a pretty girl comes up to talk to him, most guys aren’t going to give a damn about what she says.”
“But—”
“But nothing. It’s a pretty girl, and she’s talking to him. He might listen, but he’s not going to care what she says. All that’s going to matter is that she’s talking to him.”
“I don’t... I can’t believe it’s as simple as that.”
“It is. In this, most men are incredibly simple. No matter what you say when you go up, if the guy thinks you’re pretty, then all he’s going to be thinking is, Shit, she’s talking to me, she’s talking to me, she’s talking to me.”
Michelle giggled helplessly at his exaggerated tone. “I don’t think that’s right. When I started talking to you at the food court, you seemed to be really listening to what I said.”
“I was listening. And I was also shouting to myself, Shit, she’s talking to me, she’s talking to me. Thank you, Jesus, she’s talking to me!”
Unable to stop giggling, it took her a minute until she was able to respond with words. “Okay. Fine. Even if I give you that—which I’m not entirely convinced of—I still need some words to get out of my mouth after I sit down. Even if it doesn’t matter, I need to say something.”
“Okay.” His eyes were warm and fond. “Stick to the old reliables. Do you come here a lot?”
“You want me to say...”
“Do you come here a lot?” He smiled at her. “It works. Just try it.”
She took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the fact that she was going to have to walk up to a strange guy and start talking to him. “Okay. Walk over there. Sit down. Do you come here a lot?”
“That’s right. That’s all. If he doesn’t want to talk, you’ll be able to tell right away. In that case, just get up and walk away.”
Michelle stood up and immediately sat down again.
Steve chuckled. “I’m not going to let you get away with that. I’m allowed to exert a little pressure in this. You specifically asked for my help.”
“I know. I know. And I appreciate it. I’m still working up my courage.”
She sat for another minute.
Until Steve said, “Courage worked up yet?”
“Oh, shut up.” With a scowl, she got up and walked across the room to the bar where the guy she’d picked out was sitting.
He glanced up when she sat down on the stool beside him.
She had brought her wine with her, so she sipped it, giving him a smile that was probably very nervous.
“Hey,” he said.
Thank God, he’d talked first. “Hey,” she said with a wider smile. “You come here a lot?”
“Yeah. I like it. It’s usually too crowded during the semesters, but in the summer I come here all the time.” He paused, his eyes running up and down her body. “What about you?”
“This is my first time.”
They chatted for a few minutes. He was a graduate student in computer science—the same program Jill’s boss, Patrick, had gone through. She told him about Jill’s job, and he seemed really interested. Then he asked her about her graduate program, and she wasn’t even nervous anymore as she answered his questions.
She glanced over at Steve a few times. He was always half smiling, like he was pleased with her success.
But the fourth time she looked, she spotted something else on his face. Something almost poignant.
It distracted her. She studied him, trying to identify exactly what she’d seen.
“Do you have something going with that guy over there?” the man beside her asked, obviously noticing her distraction.
She straightened up and averted her gaze from Steve. “Oh, no. No. We’re just friends.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We are.”
“I believe you.” He smiled and got up, leaving a tip on the bar for the bartender. “It was nice talking to you, Michelle.”
“You too.”
She watched him leave and then got up to return to Steve.
He was frowning at her as she sat down. “He was interested,” he said. “You were doing great. Why did you keep looking at me?”
She made a face at him. “I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were. He would have kept talking to you there for an hour if you hadn’t started acting like you wanted to be somewhere else.”
She had wanted to be somewhere else. She’d wanted to find out what she’d seen on Steve’s face. She still didn’t know.
But she couldn’t admit that to him, so she said, “I was nervous. I wasn’t sure what I should do next.”
“You should have talked to him. Lesson One about men is that a pretty girl talking to them will trump everything else. Lesson Two is that most men have fragile egos, and if they think you’d rather be somewhere else, then they’re going to let you go.”
“Fine. I blew it.”
His expression softened. “You didn’t blow it. You did great. Unless you were really interested in that guy and are
sorry he left?”
“No! No, he was nice enough, but no. I’m just practicing.”
“Okay. Good. Then we’ll keep practicing.”
“What? I’m going to have to do it again?”
Steve laughed at her outrage. “Of course you are. You didn’t think you’d get off so easy, did you?”
“I kind of did. I had one success. Isn’t that enough?”
“Doing it once doesn’t constitute practice. A few new guys came in while you were talking to the first one.”
“But they’re all in groups.” She searched the bar and only saw the middle-aged man and the hard-looking one sitting on their own. “I can’t go up to a group.”
“No. That’s very advanced. Okay, let’s do it this way. You go sit at the bar by yourself and see who comes up to talk to you.”
“What if no one comes?”
“Someone is going to come.”
“How do you know?”
His eyes ran down her body, lingering on her breasts and her bare shoulders. “Looking the way you look tonight, someone is going to want to talk to you.”
She shivered in pleasure, aware of another clench of arousal.
She tried to ignore it since she had other things to focus on right now. “So just go sit by myself at the bar?”
“Ask for another glass of wine. Then sit there and drink it. You can look at your phone occasionally, but don’t focus on it. A lot of women use their phones as a kind of safety net against men approaching them, and nice guys will usually respect that boundary. You have to look around and meet the eyes of a few of the guys here. If you do that, one of them is going to come up and talk to you.”
Michelle took a shaky breath. Then she stood up.
This time she didn’t sit back down. She walked over to the bar and asked for another glass of rosé.
When the bartender handed it to her with a smile, she paid and then sat where she was to drink it. Remembering Steve’s advice, she looked around the room and was surprised by how many of the men were looking in her direction.
She wanted to look back over at Steve to see what he was doing, what he was thinking, but she restrained the impulse.
Living with Her Ex-Boyfriend (The Loft, #2) Page 11