Thirty-five and Single

“Thanks for the attack dog impression.” I scratch behind her ears. “Did you see his face? It was priceless.”

I laugh to myself, only to realize I’m still pretty tired. How long had Joel kept me up? When I jump to my feet, Sable leaps from my arms, frightened by my sudden movement.

“Sorry,” I mutter, stumbling toward the bedroom.

Something tells me I’ll want to be lying down when I remember all that happened in the early hours of the morning with Joel in my bed.

Chapter Three

Joel

Noises coming from the other room wake me. A cold spot next to me and a male voice I don’t recognize force me out of the bed and shrugging into my jeans in no time flat. I barely take the time to grab my shirt as I leave Olivia’s bedroom.

Two faces turn in my direction as I enter the living room. Olivia, all sleepily sex rumpled from our time together, should be a win. I’ve wanted her since the first time I saw her with a moving box in her hand almost a year ago.

Instead, the unhappiness in her expression steers my steps. I ignore her mysterious visitor’s shock at my appearance as my protector’s instincts fire to life. I’ve had one objective since I met her and that’s to make her smile. I intend to do just that.

When I reach her, all covered by a fluffy robe, I grin knowing exactly what’s underneath. I slide my hands inside and pull her close, dipping my head for a quick kiss.

I’m not sure how she’ll react. When she melts against me and kisses me like she isn’t ready for me to go, it’s a victory. I have to force myself to pull back, otherwise I’m going to have her against the wall, on the floor, or the sofa, audience or not. Before I step away, I make sure to close her robe tight.

Now it’s time to meet the asshole. It’s obvious the guy isn’t just a friend, as he looks ready to implode. In the year that Olivia has lived down the hall from me, there hasn’t been a parade of guys coming in and out of her door despite how gorgeous she is. I don’t have to guess who he is.

After I introduce myself, I’m not surprised he proudly announces he’s her husband. It takes everything in me not to smirk at the dumb fuck who’d let her go as she puts him in his place.

She’d been hurt by this asshole based on numerous conversations we’d shared. It’s the reason she’s been taking her time getting her bearings in life and getting over him. It’s the reason I’ve been biding my time, taking things slow. She’s needed a friend and so that’s what I’ve been.

Now that I’ve had a taste, I want this asshole to understand I’m not giving her up without a fight.

Call it a dick move on my part, but I can’t seem to care. After Olivia says to him, “I’m free to date whomever I please,” I smugly turn back to her.

I give her another kiss to remind her of our time together before saying in her ear, “I’ll see you later.”

Her scent still lingers on my skin and it’s harder than I thought it would be to leave her with her ex.

She has a history with him that we don’t share that can derail my future plans.

My mind goes crazy with thoughts of what he might say to change her mind as the door closes behind me.

She deserves better than that guy, who had taken her for granted. Maybe if he understands she’s moved on, he’ll do the same.

After I enter my apartment, my phone buzzes, reminding me that I have clients over the next few hours, one training session and a couple of tattoo appointments.

When my phone buzzes again, I check the screen. The picture that flashes there gives me pause. A part of me doesn’t want to answer. But I know if I don’t, disaster could strike and I won’t be able to live with myself.

Before I can even say hello, the caller is saying my name in a panic that makes the hairs on my arm rise.

“Joel.”

Her fear creates the same in me.

“Calli, are you okay?”

It’s a dumb question considering our history.

“Please come.”

A weariness overtakes me. “You know that’s not a good idea.”

“I’m begging you,” she cries.

Whatever Calli wants won’t be good for me or her either, but the panic in her voice gets me every time.

“I swear it’s the last time.”

It always is, yet I hear myself saying, “I’ll be there,” before ending the call.

I check my watch. There won’t be time to shower. I’ll have to grab one later at the gym. I quickly pack a change of clothes. I won’t make it back home before my plans for tonight, which bring my thoughts around to…