Break Up with Him, for Me (You Belong With Me 1)

No man in my life had ever kissed me like this. No man in my life had ever—

I suddenly realized what the hell I was doing. Who the hell I was kissing and riding.

Oh my god! I tore away from him, and he stepped back.

We stared at each other and panted heavily, letting the remaining tension suffocate any chance at conversation.

“I should go now,” was all I could say.

He didn’t say anything in return. He just stared at me.

Swallowing, I moved past him and headed to the door.

I took the elevator downstairs and signaled for one of his town cars.

When I was halfway home, with the taste of his mouth still on my lips, I sent him a text.

* * *

Me: That kiss never happened, right?

Just Hayden: Delete this part of our thread before your boyfriend sees it.

Me: Can you agree that the kiss never happened first?

He never answered.

Twenty-One

Present Day

Hayden

I didn’t text or call her for an entire week.

I couldn’t.

Twenty-Two

Present Day

Penelope

The leather seats in Simon’s Ferrari blew heat against my thighs as we coasted along the Brooklyn Bridge. Raindrops attacked the windshield with a vengeance, and he clasped my hand behind the gear shift.

For the second night in a row, I was taking him on a pastry tour—showing him some of my favorite bagel cafes in the city.

This man was honestly everything I’d ever wanted in a boyfriend, but that kiss from Hayden’s lips was still infiltrating my thoughts at every turn. It was showing up in the hidden places of my mind whenever I thought I’d forgotten it.

It was also far hotter than any of the latest “Disney kisses” and dry-hump sessions that Simon was giving to me.

It’s a good thing that we haven’t spoken to each other this week.

“Hey.” Simon waved his hand in front of my face. “Are you there, Penelope?”

I snapped out of my thoughts, realizing that we were parked in front of TJ’s Bagels. “Sorry. I was daydreaming.”

“Hope it was about me.” He smiled, brushing a few strands of hair off my face. “I really like you a lot.”

“I like you, too.”

“I can’t believe they close so early,” he said, reaching back to get his jacket. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your headphones.” I pointed to the dashboard. “Trust me.”

He pressed a light kiss against my lips and grabbed them. “I’ll take your word for it.”

I watched him walk into the rain and hold the door open for a couple before stepping inside.

He blew me a kiss from the window, and I blew one right back.

“La-da-da-da-da-daaaa…”

My phone suddenly sounded with Hayden’s ringtone, and I put in my air-pods before answering.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” His deep voice came over the line. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“I’m out with Simon.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No.” I wasn’t sure why my heart was skipping a beat. “This isn’t a bad time. He’s inside TJ’s getting us some bagels.”

“Did you warn him that the bakers are typically super slow because they’re perfectionists?”

“I think he’ll realize that pretty soon.” I held back a laugh. “That’s part of the first-timer’s experience, though.”

“I agree. While he’s in there, I need your help with a letter to someone you know personally. Well, someone you used to know.”

“Okay.” I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I’m listening.”

“Dear Spencer Turner—” He cleared his throat. “I would like to formally apologize for an incident that happened several years ago. Without saying too much, the reason you never made it to dinner at The Falls on your special day was me. However, I’m only apologizing because I only meant to break your jaw, not your ribcage. My apologies, Hayden Hunter. Thoughts?”

“I think you need to sit on that one for a while. Actually, don’t send it or bother rewriting it. Ever.”

His deep laughter came over the line, and my stomach tightened at the sound of it.

“That’s not the real version,” he said. “I only wanted to check and see if I could get away with what I truly want to say.”

“So, you did beat up ‘The One That Made a Podcast’ back then?”

“I beat him up because you spent an entire week crying over what he did to you,” he said. “There’s a difference.”

“Anything else you care to admit to?” I smiled. “Any other apology truths you want to spill?’

“No, but I have an apology letter that’s addressed specifically to you. Is there time for me to read it?”

I looked ahead and saw that the line inside the shop hadn’t moved much. “Yeah.”

“Dear Penelope—” he said, pausing. “I apologize for a highly inappropriate conversation about touching yourself that we had years ago. It happened when you were eighteen, and I was twenty-four. I should’ve known better.”

“You really don’t need to apologize to me for that.”

“I think I do,” he said. “I was the adult.”

“You were a friend answering a question.” I paused. “And the advice definitely came in handy over the years. No pun intended.”