Page 38 of My Fallen Saint

Chapter Fourteen

For the next hour, I circulate, chatting with people, nibbling on appetizers, drinking more wine than I should, and fighting an unreasonable urge to dropkick the mermaid into hell. Or at the very least, spill red wine all over that slinky, silver dress.

Every time I catch a glimpse of Devlin, she’s at his side. Her wide, Julia Roberts mouth laughing and her shampoo commercial hair gleaming. I know I’m amped, and I know I shouldn’t be. I have no claim on this man, nor do I want one. He’s a sneaky son-of-a-bitch who left without a word, came back with no apology, and wants me to hate him.

So, yeah. We are as done as done can be.

Whatever weird game he played in the parking lot was just that—a game. A ploy to mess with my mind and get me to leave. But it hadn’t worked.

Now I guess his newest ploy is to hold up Ms. Mermaid as a defensive barrier.

Since I’m equally disgusted with myself as I am with Devlin, I quit letting my eyes drag that direction and instead head outside to the flagstone patio. I’m taking a fresh glass of wine from the bartender when Brandy circles back around to me.

“It was him,” she says. “Jerk.”

She’d abandoned me about fifteen minutes ago because she’d seen someone who looked like Justin, a guy she’d gone out with several times.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Same old, same old. I thought he was one of the good ones. But as soon as I told him I wanted to slow down, he bailed. I know it’s me, but—”

“It is not you.” My voice is firm, and I mean every word. “Just because you don’t fall in bed immediately with some guy doesn’t mean he can—”

“It’s okay. Really.”

“Bran—”

“I mean it. It’s okay, and I’m fine. I just wish…”

“What?”

She shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t know if I want to change me or the men. I do want to … you know. At least, I think I do. But I move so slow.”

“Bullshit. You move at the speed of you. The right guy will stay. He’ll fight for you, even if that means fighting himself until you’re ready.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I do know. You just have to wait for the right guy.”

“I know. I will. And I’m fine.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “Truly. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

“Me? Why?”

“Don’t be obtuse. You haven’t been back here since Alex. And as far as relationships go, you’re about as lame as I am.”

She has a point. I fuck around. I don’t get close. “Yin and yang,” I say. “That’s us.”

She gives my hand a squeeze. “I saw you came with Lamar. That was interesting, right?”

“Not even. Friend zone, and you know it.”

“Fine. Whatever. But everybody is in your friend zone. Have you dated anyone in New York?”

“Dated? No.” She knows how I am.

“Exactly. All I’m saying is that Alex is gone. And considering it’s been more than a decade, I think it’s safe to say he’s not coming back.”

“I am not waiting for Alex Leto.”