It was like she could sense that now that I was back home and all alone, the glow of pride in my decision had worn off. It was hard to feel proud when you were in sweatpants and a T-shirt and your heart felt like it’d been put through a blender.
Me: Basically like shit.
The smiley face was pure sarcasm, but seriously, I didn’t mean to be such a downer.
Katrina: Sorry. Been there. Done that. I understand.
It was weird to think this stranger understood my situation better than anyone. Better than Emmy. But it would be nice to have someone to talk to about all this. I wondered if she still regularly Google-stalked Braydon. I wondered if a girl could ever really move on after someone like him. Probably not.
Me: I’m sure it sounds pathetic, but I was wondering if maybe you’d want to meet up for coffee or something . . . swap horror stories? It might help me to understand him better.
Katrina: It doesn’t sound pathetic at all, and sure, I’d love to. You just let me know when you’re up for it.
Me: Thanks. I will.
Heading back into my room, I felt the tiniest bit better. At least I had a plan. It might not have been the most noble of plans—to pump his ex-girlfriend for information—but hell, it was a start. I collapsed on my bed, curling into the sheets. There was no way not to notice that my pillowcase still smelled like him. I pulled the pillow to my face and inhaled deeply, letting his scent envelop me.
12
Several days later, Emmy and I sat at a sidewalk café, enjoying the fall sunshine and crisp air while we still could. I was so thankful she was back from her trip. Enduring this breakup alone had been torture. Especially since I knew my best friend was there with him, having fun in the sun, I was sure.
We sat over coffee and croissants as I poured my heart out to her. Once I’d finished, she lifted her chin, her eyes full of concern.
“You’ve fallen for him,” she said with a frown. I nodded sheepishly. “Then why did you run?”
I bit my cheek. “Because I wasn’t okay with being his dirty mistress. I wanted more.”
She nodded sympathetically. “If it makes you feel any better, he was miserable once you left.” I doubted that. But I avoided asking her if he found another girl on the island to replace me. I couldn’t handle knowing that right now. “This is just like me and Ben in the beginning. We started out as just a fling. You told me not to chase him, remember? You said since he was used to women throwing themselves at him that I needed to be myself and show him that my appeal was that I was a regular girl. And if he liked me and wanted me in his life, he’d make it happen.”
“That was my brilliant advice?” I cringed.
“Yes. And it worked. You were right then, and I’m right about this now. Braydon’s used to the same thing, just like Ben was. Traveling the globe, dating supermodels, girls dropping their panties at a single flash of those dimples.”
Shit, just picturing his adorable smile and dimples made my heart hurt. “Yes, and unfortunately I’m not a model, not even close, and I’ve already dropped my panties—two strikes against me. This will never work.”
“Yes it will.”
“None of this matters, Emmy. We’re done. I left him in Hawaii and he hasn’t even called.”
“He will. Trust me.”
I rolled my eyes. He had texted me once, but I didn’t mention that to her. “And when he does, you need to distance yourself from him a bit. Let him miss you. He’s already seen how great you are. You’re smart, funny, sexy, and you give him a run for his money, too. I’ve never seen a girl keep up with Braydon’s quips like you do. He’s going to realize just how amazing that combination is. Just give him a little space to miss you.”
I nodded. I knew she was right. What she was saying made sense. But the idea of distancing myself from him caused a physical ache to form in my chest.
“I’ve seen you guys together. You have amazing chemistry. I can only imagine what the sex is like between you two.”
“Oh honey, you have no idea,” I said with a chuckle. Emmy’s cheeks grew the faintest bit pink. “He’s f**king fantastic in bed. Seriously, I’ve never been with a man who knows the female body so well.”
Emmy took a sip of her espresso. “Well, all that’s got to be put on hold.”
“Emmy, are you deaf? We’re not even speaking. I certainly won’t be sleeping with him anytime soon.”
“Trust me, I know Braydon. He’s going to call. So just promise me, when he does call, don’t go to bed with him, missy. You need a hiatus to see what your relationship with him is really made of. And you need to make him work for it, despite how fabulous the sex is with him.”
“It’s more than just great sex. He’s sweet, kind, funny, and so giving. He made me feel beautiful. And smart. He’s the total package. You know, aside from that pesky detail of not wanting to be seen in public with me or have any type of real relationship.” I faked a smile.
Emmy squeezed my hand from across the table. “Do you want me to have Ben say something to him?”
“God no. That would only make things awkward.” I shuddered at the thought.
“He’ll come to his senses.” She sounded certain, but I had my doubts.
I shrugged. “We’ll see. I’m not counting on it.”
“I give him a week before he’s begging for you to come back.”
I scoffed, concentrating on my croissant, picking it into small pieces on my plate.
“Ells?”
I lifted my head. Oops, I guess I’d been lost in my own thoughts for a bit there.
“Just be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
Regardless of the fact he probably wasn’t going to call, I knew she was right. Maybe it was time to start dating again and renew my online dating profile, just to take my mind off of things with Braydon for a while.
• • •
Despite being back in town for several days, and Emmy’s prediction that Braydon would contact me, he didn’t. I tried not to be too crushed and went on with my life. It helped that I’d already had several interested guys emailing me, wanting to set up dates after I updated my online dating profile. I was just starting to feel better about things when Braydon took me by surprise on a Thursday night.
My phone rang, and as I went to pick it up, I saw Braydon’s name flashing across the screen. I stood there in my kitchen, staring down at the phone like it was a ticking time bomb. It was a call. Not a text. I tried not to get my hopes up.