Every Sweet Regret (Orchid Valley 2)

“I’m not sure Random is the best place to be if those are your criteria.”

“Is Random really the problem? Because I feel like I might have I love jerks tattooed to my forehead. Or maybe I screwed up somewhere, and that’s my profile pic.”

“What pic are you using now?” She points at my phone. “Let me see.”

I unlock it and open the app, sighing when I remember I have to go into Settings and then Profile to see my picture or profile details. This app is so rudimentary that its success might just prove above all else what incredible horndogs people are. “There,” I say when I get to it. I turn the phone so she can see the image of me in a yellow dress. I always liked this picture. Brinley took it when we were at the park last year. I’m leaning against a gnarled oak tree and grinning at the camera. I look happy.

Abbi lets out a long, low whistle. “Girl, they’re totally clicking on you for your hot bod.”

I’m not all that, but I’m experienced enough to know that a lot of guys have a weakness for my curves and think my red hair is a sign of my sexual proclivities. Then again, maybe that’s the problem. I put myself out there with my looks, and then I’m heartbroken when guys never see past them. I tried so hard to make things different with Bobby.

I laugh. “I keep threatening to change my profile pic to a cartoon avatar. Maybe I’ll do it.”

She snorts. “If I looked like that, I wouldn’t hide behind a cartoon.”

I shrug, lock the screen on my phone, and slide it back into my purse. “I’d rather find a guy who wants me for my personality than one who wants me for my appearance.”

“Must be a nice problem to have.” She sighs. “Not that I’d know.”

I ball up my napkin and throw it at her. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Just because you can’t see that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

She shrugs and throws the napkin back at me. “No, you’re gorgeous. I’m . . .” She shakes her head.

“What?”

“Nope. Nothing. We’re not doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“That thing where I express my insecurities and you spend the rest of the night trying to reassure me, and then I just feel doubly awkward. Not in the mood.”

“Abs,” I say.

“Nope.” She points at me. “Back to you and your reasons for needing a cartoon avatar.”

I feel like we should talk about her for once, but once Abbi shuts that down, it’s over, so I let it go. “I don’t know.” I shrug. “Maybe if guys actually talked to me for a bit rather than jumping right into ‘Can I fuck your titties?’ I’d find someone who wants to know what’s going on in my head.”

She snorts. “Again, maybe try an app other than Random.”

I sigh. After what Bobby put me through, I’m not ready for another relationship, but hookups are rarely worthwhile. I just need a reliable fuck buddy. Still, Abbi has a point.

“Drinks, ladies!” Smithy slides two martinis onto the table, then the waitress behind him settles two plates between us. One’s piled with cheesy tater tots, and the other what must be a triple order of fried pickles. Smithy spoils us. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you,” we chorus.

Abbi and I go quiet as we fill our plates with salty, fried goodness. Abbi digs in, and I let my gaze drift back to Kace. Bless his broken heart. He’s trying to ignore Amy, but he keeps looking in her direction as she threads her fingers in her date’s hair and laughs at his jokes.

Abbi follows my gaze. “I wish he wouldn’t torture himself.”

I shake my head. “Dean says he’s over her, but I don’t think so.”

Abbi scoffs. “He’s definitely not. He admitted to me just last weekend that he doesn’t want to start dating in case she decides to come home.”

Those words are a punch in the solar plexus.

Nodding, Abbi licks the sugared rim of her glass. “He wants what they had. I can’t blame him.”

“He wants what he thinks they had,” I mutter.

Abbi shrugs. “I know what you mean, but we all get like that about past relationships, don’t we?”

I give a noncommittal hum. Frankly, Abbi doesn’t know what I mean, because she doesn’t know Amy’s secrets. I, however, know more than I’d like to.

Abbi nudges my plate toward me. “Eat. Not only will it cheer you up, I’ll curse you tomorrow if I tear through all this by myself.”

“Wouldn’t want to let you down.” I laugh and pop a nacho-cheese-coated tot into my mouth. As good as a greasy meal sounded, my heart’s just not in it tonight.

“Are you coming tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Kace’s party?” she says. “Friends, beer, barbecue, and pool time?”

I sigh, remembering. Kace is having a pool party at his new house, and my best friends will be there. “I’m at The Orchid until five, but I’ll come over after.” I hesitate, swirling a tater tot in cheese, but I have to ask. “Will Amy be there?”