Page 69 of Hard to Resist

“This sucks.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to be single forever.”

“You won’t. You’ll find someone else.”

The thought makes my heart twist.

The buzzer for our apartment goes off.

My head whips up, and I stare at Hannah. “If that’s him, don’t let him up.”

“I would like to point out that I still have no clue what this man looks like, but no shit.” She slips off the bed. “I’ll go check it out and then bring you back some water, okay?”

I nod my head and then tip over into a cradle position on my side.

I don’t want to find someone else.

I’m not sure how to explain it, but this felt different. There was an ease with Cullen that I hadn’t experienced before. Our conversations never felt one-sided, and he was always putting in the effort to talk to me and check in, even if it was mundane. He genuinely cared about me and remembered all the little things I mentioned. It was like he had a folder in his brain with my name on it. No guy had been like that before.

I was also super attracted to him. He was so damn hot in all his six-foot plus, dark hair, muscley body goodness.

Do you know how hard it is to find a financially stable, attractive, caring man in the city? Really freaking hard. The trifecta rarely exists, and if you do somehow find it, you’re supposed to hold on.

Instead, I’m letting him slip through my fingers because fate decided to give me the middle finger.

Tears begin to well up again even though my face is already puffy as hell. I am going through the mourning process of a breakup with a man I’d been officially dating for less than twenty-four hours. A man who had given me one of the most sensual make out sessions of my entire life, the kind that has your toes curling and pussy tingling.

I hate life.

“So.”

Hannah pokes her head through the open door, and I quickly wipe away the beading tears.

“Yeah?”

She steps into the room, a giant bouquet of pink lilies and roses in her arms. Yes, arms, because giant means there have to be over a hundred flowers combined.

My chest twists all over again.

“So, going to go off on a guess and say he sent these.” She lays the flowers on my desk and plucks out the cream envelope skewered within them. “Are you sure you broke up with him?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, but?”

“No but.”

“Sounded like there might be one.”

I clench my jaw. “Yes, I broke up with him,butI might have run away as soon as I did it.”

“As in you broke up with him and then bolted without giving him a chance to reply?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…okay, okay. Whatever. I’m reading the note.”