A Date for Midnight (The Dating 1) - Page 6

His words make my heart flutter. No one has called me Nat since him. “Well,” I begin, “there’s not much to tell. I graduated nursing school and got married, only for us to get divorced two years later.”

I look over at Brennan and he shakes his head. “Damn fool. What’d he do?”

I shrug. “He cheated on me with another nurse. I’m just glad it’s over. We’ve been divorced a year now.”

Brennan bumps me in the shoulder. “He’s an idiot.”

“What about you? I saw pictures of you and Rayna Reynolds together.” The woman is gorgeous and one of the highest paid female actresses in the business. I bet she has men lined up to be with her.

He groans. “It’s nothing but publicity. I was supposed to be at her party tonight.”

A part of me is happy he couldn’t make it. Not like it matters anyway. Brennan and I might have a past, but I’m not like the women he wants now. I’m not rich or model beautiful like those women in Hollywood.

We arrive at our destination and walk inside. I stop in the lobby to take off my coat, but it’s also my way of stalling. Brennan sets the beer down and takes off his coat as well.

“Who are you visiting that lives here?” I wonder.

Brennan shrugs. “Don’t know the guy actually. Jordan invited me. You remember him, right?”

“I do,” I answer. I had no clue Brennan still kept in touch with him. I haven’t seen Jordan since we graduated.

He sighs. “Jordan said it would be chill. Guess we’ll see.”

“If it’s not, you can always come with me to mine.” The words slip out and I can’t believe I said them. There’s no way he’ll want to hang out with me and my friends.

Brennan smiles. “We’ll see.”

And that right there is my answer. I drape my coat over my arm as we walk toward the elevators. Once inside, I press my floor and he presses his, which is the floor above Emerson’s. The ride up goes quick and the doors open. I turn to face Brennan and he hands me the two packs of beer.

“It was good seeing you, Brennan. I’m truly happy for you.”

He nods and his smile fades. “It was good seeing you too.” The doors start to close, and he steps in the way. “Do you mind if I get your number?”

“Sure.” Again, my heart does that flip-flopping thing again, but I know it’s silly. The last thing I need to do is get my hopes up. I hand Brennan my phone and he hands me his. I plug in my phone number on his and he does the same with mine. Deep down, I know nothing will come of it. Our worlds are too different. I’m in Boston and he’s all over the world.

Brennan smiles again when I hand him his phone. “Have fun at your party tonight,” he says, stepping back into the elevator. “Don’t get into any trouble.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah, you know it. Lots of wine and a blind date. Good times. Have fun at yours.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but the doors shut. There’s an overwhelming sense of sadness that creeps its way into my heart. He’s gone and I know I’ll never see him again.



The elevator doors closed before I had a chance to tell Nat I fully intend to call her. Well, not call, but definitely text. I can say so much more in a text than I can a phone call, although the intent of the messages aren’t always clear. Like, if I tell Rayna I can’t wait—for whatever it is she’s doing or planning—I mean it in a sarcastic way. I loathe spending time with her and hate that we share the same publicists. Whoever created the superstar fake relationship angle should be fired and hung from the gallows. It serves no purpose, other than making one party look like a cheating asshole if they were to dare try and spark up a conversation with a member of the opposite sex.

Natalie O’Brien was my high school sweetheart and the one I let slip through my fingers. We wanted, and it seems, achieved different dreams. Our relationship started when we were sixteen. It was during the summer leading into our junior year of high school. We’d known each other for a while and hung out with the same crowd, although I was a bit of a music geek back in those days. The jocks liked to taunt me, but whatever.

The nerd in me liked to throw these dumb garage parties with my rag tag band. I always invited the whole school, hoping ten or twenty people would show up. My first one yielded mine, the other band members parents, and a neighbor, who only came over to tell us to quit with the racket. But that summer, the one where Natalie came with her friends . . . it was life changing.

Tags: Heidi McLaughlin The Dating Romance
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