Page 183 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

Even if he hadn’t meant to throw a bucket of icy cold water over me, that’s what he’d done. If we were going to have sex again tonight—something I was not opposed to doing—I wanted it to be after I’d completed his request, not before.

It only made sense.

“When I get to the office I usually grab another cup of coffee. It’s never as good as the espresso machine I have at home. But I need extra caffeine to deal with Brendon.”

“Fucking asshole,” Alex muttered. “I’ve never wanted to punch a dude more.”

Imagining that was gratifying to say the least—Alex’s fist connecting with Brendon’s face, sending him to the ground. Brendon wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Not with Alex’s bulk and athleticism.

There was definitely something sexy about him going all caveman and defending my honor, that was for sure.

“By nine I’m in my office with the door shut—and I will, without fail, always have at least six emails from him. Sometimes texts. He nitpicks everything I do to the point of insanity.”

“He’s just looking for an excuse to talk to you because he’s a bottom feeder who can’t let go.”

“That’s exactly it.” I sighed up at the ceiling morosely. “I swear to god, he’s such an ass. Calls me into his office to chew me out on a near daily basis—even though I’m better at my job than he is at his. Always makes a point to turn the picture on his desk of him and his fiancée toward me when he does. He’ll make a seedy comment or two about my body—or how “tired” I look. He’ll pretend like he cares—even when I am doing my damndest to forget we ever fucking dated and keep things strictly professional. I’ll go back to my office for a much-needed break. And then…by eleven-thirty Brendon will come to find me in my office and invite me to lunch with him.”

“Gross.”

“At the same restaurant we ate at every day when we were together, too.”

“It’s a mind game,” Alex said.

I believed him. It made sense. Brendon couldn’t fathom the fact that I’d ended things with him.

Alex’s words vindicated me. Because he wasright. And I knew he was right. And for some…strange reason—even after being single for a fucking year—it wasn’t until now, until this conversation that I realized I wasn’t sad about the break up anymore.

Wasn’t sad I wasn’t with Brendon.

Wasn’t even sad about catching him cheating, or losing out on eight years of my life.

I was simply…glad.

Glad he was gone.

Glad I was here.

Glad I could laugh about it with Alex—like it didn’t matter.

Like it was the past, because itwas.

“Side note,” I interrupted Alex’s griping about Brendon.

“Jesus, you’re cute. Who says ‘side note’ like that when they want to?—”

“Did I ever tell you that I found out I was his side piece from his secretary?”

“What?” Alex blinked, surprised.

Catching a second wind, I nodded up and down—an oddly manic smile on my face as I relayed what had happened. “She told me not to forget tocongratulate him on hisengagement.”

“Jesus fuck.”

“We’d been together eight years.”

“George—”

“He was everything to me.” It didn’t even hurt to admit it. The words didn’t hurt. Thinking about him didn’t hurt. In fact—I kind of wanted to…wanted to laugh?

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