Page 17 of Missing Pieces (Men of Manhattan 3)

"So, how many girls have you slept with?" I asked as I unlocked the car.

She laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I'm sure I had a shocked look on my face.

She laughed again. "I'm just kidding. You wish." She got in the car.

When I sat down she was holding my phone in her hand. I tried to reach for it, but she held it out at arm's length.

"Can we please use the GPS now?" she said. "We need to figure out the best way to get there."

"Just use your phone then."

"It doesn't connect to your car charger and I didn't bring an adapter." She swiped her finger across my screen. "Do you know you have 23 missed calls?"

God this girl was infuriating. "Yes. Can I please have my phone back?"

"Who's trying to get a hold of you?"

"No one important." I snatched it out of her hand.

"Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"Are you?"

She bit her lower lip. "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right?"

I slid my phone into my pocket. "Yeah. I guess." That didn't really answer my question, but in a way it did. Something bad had happened to her and she was trying to fix it. I could relate to that. I started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. If she googled that number, she'd find out who was calling me. She'd jump to conclusions about why I had left New York. It wasn't something I wanted to talk to her about. I wanted to go back to the light, flirtatious banter.

Chapter 9

Hailey

Saturday

If I had a photographic memory, I would have been able to memorize the number. As it was, I only got the first three digits. 212. I'd look it up later. It was most likely a NYC area code, which really meant nothing. But it was odd that all the calls were from the same number, which showed up as unknown on his phone. So it wasn't someone who he knew. Maybe it was his ex girlfriend, though. He could have deleted her number. 23 missed calls was a lot. Maybe she was a stalker.

I stole a glance at him. He was switching lanes on the interstate, going into the passing lane as he started to accelerate.

"It's my question, right?" I asked.

"Yeah." Tyler seemed distracted. Maybe he was just concentrating on the road.

"Why did you break up with your girlfriend?"

He thought about it for a minute. "Because I wasn't in love with her," he finally said.

"How are you so sure? Love is rather complicated. Maybe you just didn't give it enough time."

"No, I'm sure."

"How?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Because I was in love with someone else." He hit his turn signal again and sped by someone who was probably already going over the speed limit.

"Is that who you're driving toward? Does the girl you actually love live in California?" Suddenly it felt like I had just been transported into a romantic comedy. I was part of an epic love chase.

He laughed. Its sounded strangled. "No."

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