The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

“Are you in love with him?”

“Yes. Very much so. But you should know when you and I started dating, I had the same intentions you did.”

“It’s fine,” he glances over at me. “I waited too long and it cost me.”

“Please tell me we can be friends. You did me a huge favor tonight and I’m thankful for all your help.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, you’re ready. You’ll do great.”

“Thank you. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. And as soon as you pass, we’ll get you situated somewhere.”

“I can’t take a job at your agency, Brett.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable. I hope you understand.”

“Okay, I’ve got a few contacts I can send your way.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Minutes later, I’m sifting through my notes on my phone when Brett pulls up to my house, stopping at the curb. I turn to him.

“Clarissa, I would hate myself if I didn’t at least try—”

I shake my head, cutting him off. “Brett, I’m sorry. I just want to focus on getting my license and on Dante right now. I’m nowhere near ready for anything else.”

“Okay, but I hoped,” he leans over, giving me a chaste kiss, and I let him but the truth of the matter is, I’ll never want for another man’s kiss the way I do Troy’s. I’m irrevocably in love with him. Something I realized far too late.

“I swore there was something there.”

“There was, I just…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He nods toward the porch. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s sorry.”

I look over, my heart sinking when I see Troy sitting there with a clear view into the car. Unfastening my seat belt, I glance over at Brett, “You kissed me knowing he was watching?”

Brett shrugs. “Am I supposed to feel guilty? I’m pretty sure he stepped over the same line when we dated.”

“You don’t know anything about him. About us. That was a dick move.”

He shrugs. “Made me feel better.”

“Way to make me not regret my decision, asshole.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be doing that on your own,” he spouts smugly before straightening in his seat.

“Do me a favor and lose my number.”

I slam his car door, and Brett takes off. Walking toward Troy, I spot a Honda I don’t recognize in my driveway. Confused, I approach the porch where Troy sits flipping keys in his hand.

“Are you going to introduce him to Dante?”

“It’s not like that. And the answer is no. He’s an asshole, and when I’m done with a man, I’m done.”

“You don’t say? Not the impression I just got.”