Kyle leaned forward. “Is that what you’re hoping for?”
“No. I can’t go back to him now.” She lifted a hand so he wouldn’t interrupt. “It’s not just that he had sex with another woman, although that’s bad enough. It’s that he slept with my competition. We’ve had other problems—when I did the pop album, the way he looks at women sometimes, that sort of thing—but I feel we could’ve overcome those. No relationship is perfect. It’s that he let me down when I was at my most vulnerable. That tells me I can’t count on him when I need him, which leaves me no choice. I have to get over him. There’s no going back.”
“So we’re in the same boat.”
“Yes. You have to get over Olivia, and I have to get over Derrick.”
“I can’t wait until Noelle reads that article,” he said. “Normally, I don’t react to all the shit she does—not these days. It took me a while to learn that I was falling right into her trap when I let her lure me into an argument. I’d walk away feeling terrible about the whole thing, and she’d accuse me of being ‘just as bad’ as she is. But this... I have to admit, it feels good.”
“She asked for it.”
He got up. “I say we celebrate. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“No. One hangover a week is enough for me, thanks.”
“You won’t have even one glass?”
She picked up her guitar to keep her hands busy. “Not tonight.” She didn’t want anything to erode her self-control. Now that she was officially on the rebound, she needed to focus. With every day that passed, being with a man like Kyle looked more and more appealing.
16
Noelle probably wouldn’t have seen the paper if she hadn’t specifically asked to see it. And she did that only because, when she showed up at Sexy Sadie’s on Wednesday night to work her shift, everyone was talking about a particular article.
The bartender on duty wasn’t A.J. At least she was catching a break there. He’d been calling her quite often since he’d helped her put in and then take out the water heater, wanting to see her. She could tell he was interested in her, but with three different baby mamas and a rap sheet that included domestic violence, he didn’t have much to recommend him. If she was going to get with someone who lived in Whiskey Creek, it was going to be someone who was well respected, someone who could offer her more than she already had, not less. A.J. could barely cover his own rent. And he wasn’t particularly good-looking. Not nearly as good-looking as Kyle.
She’d been stupid to let Kyle get away. She’d been married to him—and she’d blown it. Yes, he’d made her sign that damn prenup. But even so, not many guys would’ve stepped up the way he did. Most of the men she’d dated since certainly wouldn’t have cared whether or not she was pregnant. The best she could’ve hoped for from any of them was a ride to the closest abortion clinic.
The fact that she’d taken that trip of her own accord five and a half years ago made her sick. If she’d handled the situation differently, she and Kyle might still be together. At the very least, she’d have his child, and that was something he never would’ve been able to change.
“Why do you want the paper?” the bartender who was on duty asked. She wasn’t sure what his first name was. No one ever used it. Everyone just called him Pope.
“Because I’d like to see it, that’s why!” she said.
He was busy wiping down the bar. “You never ask to see the paper. Can you even read?” he teased.