Page 32 of Hang the Moon
“You’ve sworn off dating?” Darcy asked.
Annie pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not athing. Just...” She shrugged even though Darcy couldn’t see her. “Just a lot of little disappointments that added up.”
Disappointments that made the thought of putting herself out there, baring her heart, completely unappealing.
“I’m burned out,” she added. “It’s not fun, you know? I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be fun and it’s become the opposite.”
First dates had become something she dreaded more than trips to the dentist. At best, they were unromantic, more akin to job interviews than anything. At worst, they made her hope. And hope was a dangerous thing.
How many more times was she supposed to go on first dates where the other person expected her to jump into bed with them, to put out just because they bought her a drink?
How many more times was she supposed to shrug and cut her losses when people didn’t want to put up with long distance, her job making it hard to nail down plans?
How many times was she supposed to ease into a new relationship, only to stare at her phone, waiting, wondering if she’d ever get a text back?
She’d been ghosted, roached, benched—if there was a dating term for it, she’d experienced it firsthand.
The last guy she’d dated had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. After two months of dating, she’d been certain things between them were going well. Ryker was nice, a little stiff, but he occasionally made her laugh. He wasn’t allergic to texting her back and he could successfully get her off. All points in his favor. Then she’d gone out of town for a two-week business trip and, upon returning, discovered they were less exclusive than she’d assumed when he told her he couldn’t do dinner because he had plans with someone else. A date with someoneelse. It was her fault for assuming, but he’d made her feel stupid about it. He’dlaughedwhen she’d admitted she hadn’t known he was seeing other people.
She was tired. She wasdone.
Sparks didn’t mean shit. And butterflies? Buzzards circling overhead was far more apt.
The next person she dated, if and when she decided to put herself out there, would be a safe, reliable choice. She didn’t need sparks; she wanted... stability. Steadiness. Someone with a mind like a Trapper Keeper. Maybe that sounded boring, but she was tired of investing herself in people who didn’t invest in her, butterflies be damned.
Darcy cleared her throat. “You said you had fun with Brendon.”
She had. “It wasn’t a date, Darcy.”
Yes, she’d had fun.
And it was true, Brendon was gorgeous in a way that had totally taken her by surprise.
But that was it.
A fun day with a funny, attractive guy.
It didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t looking for love. Not with anyone; certainly not with her best friend’s baby brother who didn’t know her. If he still liked her, it was only because he had some false idea of her inside his head, because he’d put her on a pedestal. If she gave him the chance, if she let him get to know her, he’d move on to greener pastures.
Everyone always did.
It didn’t change the fact that in two weeks she’d be backin Philadelphia, there for a short stint to finish packing up her apartment.
It didn’t change the fact that soon she’d be in London, half a world away.
Whatever attraction there was?
It didn’t change anything.
Pretending otherwise would be silly.
But she couldn’t say that over the phone. Two more days and she could tell Darcy in person, but not now.
“Okay,” Darcy said. “I just... I care about you. And I care about my brother.”
Another reason why her attraction to Brendon didn’t change a thing.
He was Darcy’s brother. And Darcy meant too much to her to risk their friendship over the potential of something more transpiring between her and Brendon. Transpiring and, inevitably, fizzling.
