Page 11 of Lessons in Heartbreak

Watching Griffin and Barrett always made me feel a bit like a kid at the zoo, nose pressed to the glass, watching the lions roam their habitat.

My parents moved us away to Fort Collins when I was fifteen—a far cry from Michigan, where I’d grown up—but those two boys were cemented in my brain. Every kid has a formative moment, a book or a movie or a crush that makes you realize just exactly how powerful hormones are.

It was the King twins for me.

Over the edge of my book, I’d study them—the beautifully proportioned bodies, the strong jaws and the long limbs, the natural grace that seemed marrow deep. And I felt things when I did.

Pounding pulse.

Rapid heart rate.

Sweaty palms.

When one of them looked at me? I felt it all over, tingling skin and prickling heat.

And here he sat, the man with the beautiful smile. So, so much bigger than he had been the last time I saw him.

A sharp pang lanced my chest, and I rubbed carefully at my sternum, firmly assuring myself that I was fine.

Griffin blinked, his face completely frozen at my announcement, but he recovered swiftly, leaning back in his chair and studying me with such intensity that I felt it like a lightning bolt.

My God, he was gorgeous.

What would he look like naked? My face was flaming, because now I was looking at the size of his hands and, through the screaming static in my brain, thinking about the proportions of hand size and feet size to ... other body parts’ sizes, and I felt a little faint.

He’d look incredible, wouldn’t he?

Not that I’d ever know.

I’d paidso muchmoney for this meeting, and not once did I consider that I’d actually be attracted to the person they sent. I figuredit would be like having a really good teacher who didn’t smell bad and had clean teeth and could teach me things in a way that I’d be able to understand. Filter out my emotions because of how horribly they got in the way whenever I attempted ... this.

“Hiring an escort is no small decision,” he said smoothly, crossing his massive arms over his chest. My eyes lingered briefly on the curve of his biceps, the way they strained the black T-shirt. How ridiculous. No one should have arms that big. “I’d love to hear more, Ruby.”

There was a purring quality to his voice. Like the lion at the zoo—powerful and big and dangerous—staring at me from his seat, just waiting for me to move too quickly. My whole body wanted to bolt, but some screaming instinct told me to hold still, because if I turned my back, he’d sink those giant canines into a soft, unprotected part of me and drag me someplace dark and quiet.

This is what happens when you act impulsively,I thought, with a wild, shrieking quality to the voice in my head.

“No, it wasn’t a small decision,” I said coolly, like my insides weren’t shaking like a freaking leaf. “But I’d rather hear how you ended up in your job.”

If there was a ranking system for the type of men in the world, he was at the top of the food chain. The size and strength of his body were just one piece of what put him there. His face was another. I’d watched him at the counter, flirting smoothly with Blake, recovering even more smoothly when she told him about her wife.

A pheromone surrounded him like a cloud, so very potent that I could feel the weakness in my knees even though I was sitting. Not just because he smelled good or because he had such physically pleasing features—a strong jaw and a straight nose, heavily lashed eyes in a golden-hazel color, and muscles stacked along his tall frame in a way that made my throat go dry.

Under any other circumstance, I’d hardly be able to make eye contact with a man like him. But God, I was so sick of that instinct torun. Sick of holding up the heaviest sort of armor when I didn’t. After so many years, I wasn’t even sure how much protection it offered.

The worst sort of feelings still lingered—loneliness, more than anything. It hurt in a way other emotions didn’t, because it wasn’t sharp or quick. It lingered, like a bruise that kept getting pushed, so it could never really heal.

Maybe I could set down that armor with him, though.

He wouldn’t laugh at me, and he wouldn’t tease.

There was a reason I’d called in a professional.

Your date will be in a black T-shirt, black pants, black-and-wood watch, tall with dark hair. Sit in the back of the restaurant, where the two of you can have some privacy.

That’s what the email had said.

Griffin leaned in, and I fought the urge to back away. The eye contact was almost dizzying, something I could feel curling pleasantly in my stomach, lifting the hairs on the back of my neck.

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