Michael, like always, didn’t even have to speak to melt that ice. He just had to be in the same room. Breathing. Vital. Alive.
Electric.
The piece of me I’d never known had been missing until we met.
Glancing at the closed door of my old bedroom, I let myself into the guest room and slumped down on the bed.
Michael’s angry voice filled my head, but soon the ghosts of the past drowned them out …
Following Dillon into Angie’s Diner, I grumbled, “I don’t want to be here.”
The evening crowds hadn’t quite arrived, so Dillon managed to grab us a booth at the back. “We could sit at the counter instead of taking up all this room.”
My little sister rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, if you don’t stop moping and whining and complaining, I’m going to slap you.”
I made a face. “I’m not that bad.”
“You are that bad.” She gave me a sympathetic look as we slid into the booth. “Maybe you underestimated how much you cared about Gary. Maybe he’s worth a second chance.”
Would it be wrong to squirt ketchup all over her nice white T-shirt? Trying not to glower at her, I snipped, “He’s not worth a second chance.”
The asshole had been cheating on me! I caught him!
“Well, this moping has to stop. I love you, and I’m sorry he was such a dick, but you are not the first girl to get cheated on.”
Lowering my gaze so she couldn’t see the fury in my eyes, I had to swallow a few times to stop the acrimony inside me from spilling out. I wasn’t moping because Gary had cheated on me and we’d broken up.
I was heartbroken.
Not over Gary.
Nope.
Over Michael.
For a year we’d been friends. Good friends. Better friends than even Gary knew. Michael had been there for me, and we’d talked about everything. And I’d thought that my feelings for him were reciprocated.
But six weeks ago, days before I broke up with Gary, I’d found out that he had started dating Dillon. They’d been together for ten weeks. Ten weeks! I knew that because Dillon kept walking around on cloud nine saying, “I can’t believe it’s been ten weeks. This is the one, Dahlia. Definitely the one.”
My little sister.
The fucker had started dating my little sister.
I hated him.
Because I loved him.
I really hated him.
I’d avoided his texts and phone calls since splitting up with Gary and was dreading the day he turned up as Dillon’s date to some family event.
God, what an idiot I’d been. All that guilt I’d felt when I was with Gary because I wanted Michael instead.
Huh, what a joke.
“You’re not yourself, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“I’ll be fine.” I gave her a weak smile.