Shit.
Admitting the situation in my head was almost as bad as finally saying it out loud. I wrapped my arm around Avery and faced Kayla.
Tears streamed down her face.
I was the cause of them.
And I hated myself for it. Even if Kayla had doubts too, there was no justification for what I did to her—not that she forced me to do something as horrible as I did.
There was no justification for what I did to Kayla.
Everyone had expected us to get married. But we’d been fighting, and deep down she must have known that we’d been growing apart. That we’d stayed together out of familiarity and habit.
Even though I knew it wasn’t the time to say it, she had to know, in her gut, that we would have never worked.
“Kayla, you look really good.” I held out my hand. She hesitated and then sat up a little taller, taking the compliment and pressing her hand firmer against mine. I’d always hated how she shook hands. She’d always been a bit vain, needing attention and adulation to feel good about herself. I hoped that my greeting would set her at ease—and though she did look good, she didn’t compare to Avery.
The breadbasket arrived.
Avery ripped into it like a hungry lion, while Kayla tore small pieces and put them on her plate, only to plop one in her mouth, chew a billion times, and finally swallow.
God, it was like seeing her for the first time—and suddenly I wondered how we’d stayed together as long as we did. So many things had started to pull us apart before we even got engaged. I’d always despised Kayla’s eating habits, especially after all the fights we got into about her not eating. Back then she thought the perfect body was about being skinny, and it was apparent she hadn’t changed much in that regard. I’d never noticed how thin her face was, or how clothes hung so loosely on her body. Most women would probably envy her wispy frame, but it made my fingers itch to run up and down Avery’s legs, then hold her tight.
“So this is . . . so nice,” Avery choked out, taking a huge sip of wine between her giant bites of bread. “Should we order?”
“YES!” I said a little too loudly.
“Look, guys”—Kayla’s shoulders slumped—“I appreciate the show, but honestly this is awkward and it’s not going to get better. I haven’t had an appetite all day, so why don’t you two just enjoy dinner tonight.” She stood. “Avery, I love you. I’ll talk to you later.”
Her eyes locked on mine. “Lucas.”
And she was gone.
I exhaled in relief while Avery pointed at the breadbasket, her mouth filled with bread, and said, “Are you going to eat that?”
“By all means, have all five pieces. It’s not communal or anything,” I joked as the waiter dropped off two menus.
“That was . . .” I glanced back at the door. “How is she?”
Avery made a noise. “How would you be if you dated someone for most of your life and thought it meant forever, only to find him in someone else’s bed and then, plot twist.” She was really tearing into that bread. “Now that she’s finally over it, her goofy little sister suddenly steps in and decides she wants a piece.”
I reached for a roll, but my hand was slapped away.
“No,” Avery growled.
With a sigh, I leaned forward and said in a low voice, “Don’t you think I know how bad it hurt? How awful it was the next day when I woke up with the hangover from hell? I never meant to hurt her. I wouldn’t—look, regardless of how things were between us, the last thing she deserved was that.”
A hunk of bread fell from Avery’s lips. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a complete monster—I’d think you would know me better than that.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice, but it was impossible.
Our gazes locked.
The air was tense with all the words left unsaid.
Four years’ worth of them.
I looked away, suddenly grateful for Kayla’s exit.
Because it gave me time with the only girl I actually wanted to be having dinner with on a Wednesday.
Avery.
Shit. I was already in so deep, wasn’t I?
I couldn’t see beyond the hole I was digging for myself. The kiss had unlocked every damn thing, and the more I pushed her away, the more I hurt her. She was probably ready to strangle me half the time whenever I brought up my girls, and yet she held her head high and met me with a fierceness I found so damn irresistible and admirable that I couldn’t help but crave her more.
A waiter approached.
“Steak.” I winked at Avery. “Just bring us two giant steaks, mashed potatoes, the house salad, and—”
“Corn!” Avery added, shoving another piece of bread in her mouth.
“You heard the lady.” I chuckled and handed him the menus.
“Would you like something to drink, sir?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.” For some reason, I wanted a clear head, and after that kiss, I was already half-drunk on Avery’s mouth, the same mouth she was still stuffing bread into.
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’m a nervous eater,” she said defensively. “Thanks for coming by and making Kayla believe it’s real, but you can run along and hang out with Chelsea, who I’m sure is pissed.”
And as I often did around Avery, I felt like an ass. “Actually, she thought it was going to be a group orgy. I let her down slowly though, told her you weren’t into anything sexual and still wore a training bra.”
“How sweet of you.” Avery kicked my foot under the table.
I winced. “That was uncalled for.”
“You insulted my boobs—I’ll have you know they’re very sensitive.”
I bit out a curse and reached for my water. She was young, inexperienced, and probably didn’t intend for her words to affect me, and yet I was nursing fast-moving arousal under the table.
“That came out wrong.” Her cheeks blushed bright pink.
“Funny, I’d say it came out just right.” I leaned in. “Let’s discuss this further.”
“Aw, sorry, can’t. I’m not your normal Wednesday, so no matter how this night ends, whether I’m at my place or yours—my private parts are on lockdown.”
“You really need to stop drawing my attention to your breasts. Might give me the wrong idea.”
She gulped, her eyes locking on my mouth. “Yeah, well, when I’m stressed I blurt out things that make no sense. You’re free to ignore me the rest of the night. Say, where are we with that whole leaving and forgetting about this idea?”
“Staying.” I wrapped my arm around her. “Right here.”
She slumped forward. “But . . .”
“That didn’t seem to go well.” I changed the subject and reached for the last piece of bread.