Page 36 of Big Rucking Disaster

“Who would be for you?” He stopped at the red light. Traffic whizzed across Broadway in both directions.

I drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I mean, does anyone ever know the true person they’re meant to be with before they meet them? I mean…” I scratched my chin. “I want to say, personality. But that means I’d have to get to spend time with someone in a private setting, because who they are in front of other people might not be their true selves. Or, hell, they might always hide who they really are. They might be a manipulative person who is…” I floundered. “I should’ve broken up with her months ago.”

“No sense regretting what you did or didn’t do. You’re out and that’s that. Tomorrow we’ll deal with the fallout on social media.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is. Nothing’s unrepairable. Nothing’s impossible to work through and past.”

“Unforgiveable sins exist.”

He skirted from The Kingsway onto Fraser Street. “Sure. Like murder. Like intentionally hurting someone in some terrible way. But breaking up with someone doesn’t count, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Are we stopping?”

“No, thank you.”

“Because you’ve got condoms.” Said with a wry tone.

“Because I’ve got condoms.” Said with enthusiasm.

“God, you’re precious.”

As I chanced a glance at him, he grinned.

I might just be okay.

Chapter Eleven

Yardley

How Johnnie Leclerc wound up in my bed was quite beyond me, but as I roused on Saturday morning, I was aware of two distinct things—his arm around my waist as he pressed against me, and the fact we both had morning wood.

Mine wasn’t surprising—I was in bed with a man who, despite all my efforts to the contrary, I found attractive.

His was…unexpected.

“You smell good.” He nuzzled his nose into my neck.

I froze.

How…?

Oh, right.

He’d been distressed about the breakup and the fallout. He’d said he didn’t want to be alone.

I’d taken that literally and had invited him to my bed. Platonically, of course. In truth, I’d never shared a bed with anyone except Nicholas.

Until last night.

Until this morning.

“I can hear you thinking, Yardley.”

Okay…well at least he doesn’t think I’m Carly. That’s something…right?

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