“Wow, nice digs!” she said, taking in the comfortable living room of Ruger’s house. “When you told me we’d be staying here, I was surprised. I can’t believe your apartment still isn’t ready to move back into.”
The truth was, the super had called me just after Ruger’s departure, to tell me I could move back but I didn’t want to. While he was away, it was nice falling asleep in Ruger’s bed, surrounded by his things and the scent of him still lingering in his sheets.
More than anything, I wanted to confide in Emma. And I would. In time. But I wanted the time to be right.
“Oh my God! Who the fuck is this?” she asked, looking at a photo of Ruger and his grandma on the wall. Knowing she wasn’t into old ladies, I figured she was talking about Ruger.
“That’s Ruger,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
“The guy who owns this place?”
“Yes.”
“Is he single? Because if he’s single, then, girl, you need to hook us up!”
“He isn’t single,” I said, directing her toward the couch. “Now sit down and let me get you a drink.”
I loved having Emma around. She was one of the nicest people I knew and she had me in stitches with laughter all evening. We drank margaritas and ate homemade quesadillas as she filled me in on what her free-spirited ass had been up to during her travels.
“You know who I ran into the other day?”
“Who?”
“Joey.”
“Joey!” Ugh. My ex-boyfriend.
The one who dumped me after he met my family and learned about the motorcycle club.
“A-ha. And he was with his wife.”
“Wife?”
Emma nodded. “She’s pregnant, too. And I mean, she’s about to pop that baby out.”
“Wow, so he finally found his Mrs. Right.”
“I don’t know about that. He looked totally miserable.”
Part of me wanted to be glad—the childish, immature part—because of the way he had treated me.
But it was hard to hold a grudge. Because if he hadn’t dumped me, we could be married and I would’ve never known the intensity and the sheer magic of loving Ruger.
At the end of the day, Joey did me a favor by dumping my ass.
“What about you? Any potential Mr. Right on the horizon?” Emma asked, looking at me over her margarita glass. When I didn’t answer fast enough, her eyes widened. “Oh, you need to fill me in, girl. I can see it written all over your face. You’re being plowed like a soybean field before planting season.”
Emma grew up on a farm in Iowa.
When I went to deny it, I couldn’t, and my face broke into a big grin.
“I knew it!” She put down her margarita glass. “I’m going to pee and when I get back, I want to hear all about it.”
While she went to the bathroom, I looked at my phone. Lately, Ruger’s nightly phone calls were coming later and later. It was already ten o’clock, and he still hadn’t called.
Feeling slightly inebriated thanks to a pitcher of margaritas, I wondered if it was because he was out with Astrid, enjoying a quiet dinner somewhere, laughing about old times and wondering if he wanted to make new memories with her.
Jealousy prickled at the nape of my neck. And the alcohol wasn’t helping. It was wearing down the walls between logic and emotion, making me question the things I thought I had found peace with.
It was also making me impatient.
When there was a harsh knock at the door, it almost made me jump out of my skin. I glanced at my watch. It was late.
Who would be visiting Ruger at this time of night?
Jumping up, I checked the peephole, and standing on Ruger’s front step was a blonde lady.
Of course, there was.
Wearing a trench coat and high heels, she impatiently puffed on a cigarette before banging on the door again.
“Can I help you?” I asked as I pulled open the door.
Her eyes swept over me and then she scoffed. The bitch actually scoffed, before taking another puff on her cigarette.
“So you’re the latest,” she said, an evil smirk curling on her bright red lips.
Her mean eyes fixed to mine and gleamed with venom.
She glared at me.
So I glared back. “I repeat, can I help you?”
Her face was familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to it.
“I wasn’t going to come here, but I think my sister deserves better than what she’s getting. So here I am.”
“Congratulations. But who are you and what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Astrid is my sister.”
My chest tightened. Right. That was why she looked so familiar.
“And…?”
“And … I’m here to tell you to back off.”
I gritted my teeth. So not only was I dealing with one woman trying to end my relationship, now I had to deal with her sister, as well. Fucking fabulous.
“You know he’s fucking her, right? As we stand here, they’re off playing happy families. And so they should. They’re about to have a baby. So, I’m here to let you know exactly what’s happening and to tell you that it’s time to let go.”