Page 105 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
Look at me go.
The elevator comes and I hit the button to take me to the employee parking garage, but unfortunately, it stops two floors away.
“Ainsley! What a surprise.”
The groan I let out echoes through the elevator. “Jonathan.”
He steps into the elevator, but strangely doesn’t press a button. I don’t think this is a surprise. I don’t know how he knew I was leaving—no one on my floor would tell him anything, let alone my comings and goings—but this can’t be a coincidence. Especially not after the flowers today.
“Did you get my present?”
“I did.”
I stare at the lights as they move from floor to floor. Normally these elevators are pretty fast. Today they’re moving at a snail’s pace.
“So since you’re getting off early, and my on-call shift is over, do you want to take me up on that dinner date?”
“No, Jonathan, I don’t.”
I don’t look at him as I respond, instead thanking the heavens above as the doors open to lead me into the parking garage, where I’m only a few cars away.
“Ainsley! Can we talk?”
Why is he following me? Also, why can’t this man take a hint? It’s not even a hint at this point. It’s a loud, flashing sign accompanied by the crazy inflatable waving-arm tube man outside the car dealership.
I turn on a dime, though I didn’t realize how close he was to me. I’m a few steps from my car, and Jonathan is so close I can feel his breath.
“Jonathan! Get the hell away from me.”
The strength in my voice—and my use of hell—takes him back slightly, but he’s still too close to me for my liking.
“Why are you acting like this?” he asks.
Me? He’s asking me that? “I could ask you the same question. And frankly, I’d rather dig into that. Because why won’t you leave me alone? I’ve moved on. And you should too.”
He rolls his eyes. “Really, Ainsley? You’re still pretending with that guy?”
“It’s real!” I yell, my voice echoing off of the cement walls of the garage. “You’re the one choosing not to believe that, and I don’t know what else I can do to make you understand that I want nothing to do with you!”
He shakes his head, taking a step toward me. I was already close to my car, and his movements make me reverse until I feel my back hit the metal. Both of his hands reach out, essentially pinning me against my practical Honda Civic.
“What’s he done to you?” His voice is low, and it sends a chill down my spine.
“Jonathan. Back up. Now. Or I swear I’ll scream.”
He rolls his eyes again, but slowly does what I ask.
“I don’t know who you are anymore,” he says, shaking his head in disappointment at me. “You don’t raise your voice. Or swear. You don’t go out drinking. Or partying. And PDA? What was that about? Where did my Ainsley go?”
He could be talking about the karaoke bar, but I have a feeling if he knows when I’m leaving the hospital, then he saw photos on social media this week of Linc and I kissing in public. He has two away games in a row, so we took Tuesday to have a little date night.
God forbid a girl kiss her boyfriend after he takes her for ice cream.
And gave her an orgasm in the car. But nobody else needs to know that.
“Your Ainsley? I was neveryourAinsley.” Sure, I might’ve thought that when we were together. But now that I’m with Linc? Now that I truly know what it’s like to be wanted and desired by someone—and vice versa—it’s laughable that I thought I ever had that with Jonathan. “I might not be the Ainsley from the past, but every day I’m learning who I truly am. I’m happy. I’ve moved on. You need to as well. For good.”
Just as I finish my monologue, my phone starts ringing, and I let out a sigh of relief when I hear the song that Linc made his personal ring tone. And yes, it’s the song I sang to him badly at karaoke. And judging by Jonathan’s face, he clearly remembers.
