Page 125 of Mr. Flirt

“But you’d bore me to death.”

Cliff’s smile only widened. “The momentJingle Berry Ballsleft your lips, I panicked.”

“So, you’re okay that we’re not okay?” I asked, feeling my pulse soar a little more with each passing second.

“Absolutely.”

I patted the table. “Good.”

“Good.”

Our meals were delivered right then, and I glanced at Shep’s table. He was watching me, and the very act sent a thrill of the unknown through me.

I turned my attention back to Cliff as we dug into our burgers.

“I’m glad we got this straightened out,” Cliff said, licking his fingers. “Because this has to be the most awkward date I’ve ever been on. You’re beautiful and super awesome. Don’t get me wrong.”

“Same for you. Very handsome fellow.” I took a bite of my cheeseburger and tried to come up with how to approach Shep.

Light and funny.

Angry and scrappy.

I just didn’t know, but when the tab came and we split the bill appropriately, I couldn’t wait to walk over to Shep.

Cliff stood and wandered toward the door as I took a deep breath and smoothed my hands over my skirt. I’d polished off the last of the martini because I knew I needed all the liquid courage I could muster.

But when I looked over at Shep’s table, he was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I Fell for It

Shep

The knock pounded through the entire apartment like a brigade of firemen were outside. I grumbled a few curse words as I trudged to my front door, where I could chew out my best friends. I didn’t need any more bright ideas that they’d come up with. I needed peace and quiet and time to lick my wounds.

Seeing Lucy tonight only solidified what I’d screwed up for myself. Right when I got to the door, more raps on the door rippled through the condo.

“What the hell do you want this time?” I growled as I opened the door to see Lucy staring at me with her bright green eyes and dark hair falling below her shoulders. She shivered a little and kept her gaze focused on me.

“Lucy!” My heart raced with confusion. Her glassy eyes and the wobble in her stance made me want to fold her into my arms.

“I’m not perfect,” she said softly.

“Yes, you are.”

She shook her head. “I’m not, and I shouldn’t expect you to be, either.”

The smell of alcohol drifted toward me.

“You’re drunk,” I said quietly.

The gravity of the situation felt like a lead weight.

“So?” She smiled. “I told you I’m not perfect.”

“I never wanted perfection.”

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