Page 107 of Lessons in Heartbreak

My eyes narrowed. “Since when are you emotionally intelligent?”

“Are you kidding? I’m so good at this shit. Reading people is like, my fourth-best skill in life.”

“I don’t think I want to ask your top three.”

Helpful man that he was, Marcus ticked them off on his fingers. “Playing football. Throwing parties. And cunnilingus.” He smacked me on the shoulder. “I can give you pointers on all of the above.”

“Please don’t.”

He laughed. “I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“Do you?” I asked with a disbelieving tilt of my head.

“I do. Find me in the team film room after your meeting.”

About an hour later—my meeting complete and my head finally shifting back to football, where it belonged—I wound through the maze of hallways until I found the primary film room. Whenever we met as a team, it would be in here. At the front of the room was a giant projection screen, with a podium off to the side. The walls were emblazoned with the Denver logo, and big, cushy stadium-style seats in a deep-blue leather filled the rest of the room. They were big enough for a lineman to fit comfortably, and when I walked in, about thirty guys were talking and laughing, picking seats while Marcus tried to get control of the room.

“All right,” he yelled. “Pick a fucking seat and get comfy.” My eyebrows popped up at his tone, and he winked in my direction. “This is important, assholes. It’s come to my attention in the last few weeks that I may have missed out on a very important seduction technique.” Everyone groaned, but he held his hands up to restore order. “Our newest beast on defense, Mr. Griffin King, is the reason I’ve become aware of this giant misstep, and as an homage to him, I think it’s time to pay it forward and teach the rest of your single asses about it as well.”

Confusion rumbled around the room, and an O-lineman seated to my right held up his fist for a tap. I did, crossing my arms over my chest, because fuck if I didn’t know what was coming next.

He clicked a button on the remote, and the opening credits ofPride & Prejudicefilled the screen. I closed my eyes and swiped a hand over my mouth while the room echoed with a chorus of “what the fuck” and “what is this?”

“I fucking love this movie,” the guy to my right whispered.

In surprise, I glanced over at him. “You do?”

“Hell yeah, man. Chicks love a sensitive guy.”

Marcus stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled, the chatter cutting off immediately. “You’re gonna watch and you’re gonna love it,” he instructed, eyes looking a little crazy as he glanced around the room. “Anyone who doesn’t has to sit in the ice bath for thirty minutes.”

About an hour later, every guy in the room was glued to the screen, and from his spot at the podium, Marcus held up his hands and waited for the right moment. “Now watch ... watch what he does here.”

Darcy extended his hand and grabbed Elizabeth’s, and I heard someone whisper, “Oh fuck yeah, he did that.”

When he walked away, flexing his hand out, the guys went wild.

My laugh was loud, and hell if it didn’t feel good after ten days of feeling like I had concrete blocks tied to my lungs. In my pocket, my phone buzzed, and with a smile still on my face, I pulled it out.

Steven:Emailed you the documents you need to sign. Everything’s all settled. Want me to take care of this for you?

Me:That would be great, thank you.

Steven:I’ll pick up the check tomorrow. Might stop by your new place and throw a rager and drive your car around the state.

Me:Have at it, buddy. I’ll give you the keys myself.

Steven:Oh, I think it’s the lack of permission that makes it more fun.

Before tucking my phone away, I pulled in a short breath and tapped on my photo app. The selfie of me and Ruby filled the screen, and my chest ached with a fierce pinch. For a few more seconds, I stared at it—at the lines of her face, the delicate slope of her nose, the long lashes around her gray eyes, and the wisps of golden hair sliding across her face—then let the phone go dark, sliding it back into my pocket so I could pretend like I was fine.

Chapter Twenty-SixRuby

Three weeks later

The knock on my office door was tentative—which meant it wasn’t Lauren—and with the phone wedged between my ear and my shoulder, I whirled in my chair and waved whoever it was inside.

“That sounds amazing, Mom. Where do you guys go ashore next?”

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