The One That Got Away (Kingston Ale House)

Spencer guided the two other people in their group farther into the bar.

“You’ll miss your party,” he said. “Or whatever it is.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and felt that his stubble was getting close to being a beard. Had he really not shaved all week?

“It’s just dinner,” she said quietly. “I only came here to tell Spencer… Shit. Can we talk after, maybe? I just think—”

“It’s been a long day,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even. “I should really just crash.”

Now she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, giving him the look. It was the same look his mom used on him and his brothers, the one that said, I have fucking had enough. Not that he could ever picture his mom saying fuck, but in his head, he’d known she’d meant it. Brynn had had enough, and so had he.

“I can’t do this anymore, Brynn. He wins, okay?”

He lingered for another few seconds, long enough to think twice about begging her to reconsider, but he tucked the thought away. He wouldn’t ruin this night for her no matter how much it had been obliterated for him. Because, broken heart or not, he still wanted happiness for her.

“Good night, Brynn.”

She stood there, mouth open and poised to respond, but said nothing. So he disappeared around the corner where he found an elevator about to close and squeezed in just in time.

Just in time to run, he thought. He was getting damn good at this, and he hated himself for it.

Jamie did have work to do, but it would have to wait until morning. He had only one plan for this evening, and it involved a quick phone call to the concierge.

“Sure, Mr. Kingston. We can charge the bottle to your room.”

Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. The room-service attendant was a guy not much younger than him, and he smiled wryly as he handed Jamie the pint of Jack. Just enough to get him through the night without making him useless in the morning.

“Here,” Jamie said, handing the kid a tip. “You can keep the glass.”

Jamie closed the door and seconds later collapsed into the chair by the window that looked out over the pool. He unscrewed the bottle and held it up as if to toast himself.

“Well, Jack, I guess we meet again.”

At least he wouldn’t spend the night completely alone.



“Staying with you?” Brynn whirled to face Spencer, the boy—now the man—she’d fantasized about, put on a pedestal for ten years, and here she was, yelling at him.

The confidence in his blue eyes wavered for only a second, but Brynn saw the way her anger could slice at someone, especially one who didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of it. That was Spencer now, and it had been Jamie two weeks ago.

“Shit,” she said. “Shit. Spencer, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes stung, and her head pounded. She reached for the flesh-colored bandage that replaced the square of gauze she’d worn all day. Spencer hadn’t asked her about it, and she was glad of it. Just seeing Jamie, though, and the weariness in his eyes, made everything in her pulse. Pain, love, passion, complete and utter fury—he ignited it all, her heart racing as she realized she’d just let him walk away from her.

And then this man whom she barely knew, who was the boy on the pedestal, smiled at her.

“You’re not staying for dinner.”

Brynn shook her head.

He chuckled softly. “And it’s safe to say I was a bit presumptuous about you staying in my room. I’m sorry, Brynn. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

She had to hand it to herself. She really could pick them. Spencer was Mr. Perfect in high school, and here he was, living up to that label once more. She could tick off the list like Jamie thought she would. Spencer was gorgeous, successful, understanding, and he wrote books. Books! On paper, yes, he fit the profile—ten years ago and today. The only difference was that Brynn wasn’t blind anymore.

He wasn’t perfect for her.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, even though her whole point in coming to dinner was to say exactly that.

He shook his head. “Don’t be. I admit I am disappointed but not surprised.”

“You’re not?” she asked.

He walked her into the lobby.

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school,” Spencer said. “But I always figured you and Kingston were a thing.”

She sputtered. “You had a…I’m sorry did you…a crush on me?”

He smiled. “Don’t sound so surprised. It’s not like I was the only one.” He nodded toward the upper floors of the hotel.

Brynn crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, he’s got a funny way of showing it.”

Now Spencer was laughing. “Hey, remember how the boys used to show they liked the girls in grade school?”

“What, like hair pulling and hitting?”

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