Page 56 of Flirting with Trouble

“What happened in high school?”

“Leni didn’t tell you?” he asks with disbelief.

“She just said you went out for a while and had to keep it secret because she was afraid her brothers would get mad.”

“That’s true, but I fell hard for her. She was my first love. The one who got away.”

Holy shit. A pang of jealousy shoots through me. “She never told me that.”

“Probably because she wasn’t in love with me and we were just kids.” He presses both hands to his thighs. “Or maybe because I cheated on her with Abby and hurt her so badly, she carried a chip on her shoulder toward me for years.”

The pit of my stomach sinks, and I can’t hide the shock widening my eyes. “You cheated on her?” I can’t believe she didn’t tell me that when I told her I’d been with you.

“I’m not proud of it, but yes,” he says remorsefully. “I was terrified of my feelings for her. I thought if my parents couldn’t make their relationship work, there was no way I could, and in my stupid teenage brain, cheating was the only way I could end it for good.”

“That’s an awful thing to do to someone. Why didn’t you just break up with her?”

“I loved her too much. I knew I wouldn’t follow through with it. But after she found out and we broke up, I realized how stupid I’d been. We were both devastated. I tried many times to explain why I did it, but she couldn’t even look at me, and I don’t blame her. It was a dick move, and I have never cheated on anyone since. Not once, and I never will.”

“Because you hurt her so badly?”

“I wish I could tell you that was the only reason, but the hurt I caused her was only about half as bad as the pain and guilt I caused myself. Remember, she didn’t love me. I was the one who was madly infatuated. It took me a year to get over her, and we remained friends, but it wasn’t the same.”

“She’s never said anything to lead me to believe she thinks badly of you.”

“Maybe that’s because a couple of years ago, when she and Raz got together, she finally let me explain. I think that helped both of us.”

I stare absently out at the trees in the distance, swinging a little, thinking about the things he shared and our complicated childhoods and lives. It’s no wonder he went the player route after having his heart broken when he was young. We’re not so different after all. He took the left fork in the road, and I took the middle one after Harvey died, cutting off men altogether. I wonder if there is a right fork. Maybe that’s what we’re on now. A path of deep friendship, attraction, and understanding.

“Second-guessing being with me?” he asks.

I meet his worried gaze. “No. You were a teenager. Lots of kids make that mistake, and for worse reasons. I was just thinking about how our parents’ decisions and life affected us.”

“This is going to sound bad, but at first when they told us they’d always been madly in love and when we were kids my dad would sneak into the house to spend the night and leave before we got up so they wouldn’t confuse us, I thought it was selfish.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that.”

“Why?”

“Because I felt that way about my parents, too, but I’ve never told anyone because I was afraid they’d think I was being ungrateful or selfish.”

He squeezes my hand. “I don’t know if that makes us selfish or not. Maybe everyone needs to be a little selfish. Otherwise would we ever really succeed at anything?”

“Good point. I don’t hold my childhood against my parents or anything, but if I ever have kids, I’ll think twice about what I put them through.” I walk my feet back and swing slowly. “Life would’ve been a lot easier for me if I were more like you. A laid-back partier who’s everyone’s friend.” That’s actually one of the things I like most about him. He’s comfortable in his own skin, easy to be around, and gets along with everyone.

“I’m not a party boy anymore.”

“Just a playboy,” I tease, putting my feet down to stop the swing.

He shakes his head. “You keep saying that, but I’m really not. I like to flirt, and I enjoy a fling now and then, but it’s not like I’m sleeping with a different woman every night.”

I hold up my hand. “I don’t want to know.”

“Yes, you do.” He grabs the chains to my swing, turning me toward his wolfish grin. “You’re the only woman I want to be sleeping with, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

I can’t stop smiling even as I say, “I didn’t ask.”

“But you wanted to know.” He slides one hand beneath my hair, palming the back of my head and drawing my lips to his in a delicious kiss. “Want to have some fun?”