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Always.
Clay was the one who got in the way of that.
He was never the plan.
None of this was the plan.
“Island?” Byron’s voice ricochets through the hallway. He does a nervous chuckle. “Did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?”
My body tenses, but it’s not with release.
It’s with panic.
Heart bursting, I shatter the spell Clay has on me, push his hand out of my skirt and spin around so I can pull my dress down over my thighs.
“Don’t do this, Clay.” My hair falls into my eyes and I brush it back. My skirt sticks to the moisture on my legs. “Don’t confuse me. You knew who I was, what my boundaries were, since the beginning. I can’t.”
I leave him behind in the hallway and walk on rubbery legs to the main hall.
“There you are,” Byron says. His eyes light up. And then they dim when he glances over me. “Are you okay?”
Another man’s hand was just up my skirt while he confessed his feelings for me.“Yeah, I’m great.”
“Great.” He flashes a big smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered dessert.”
“Oh, you did?” My smile fractures. I was hoping to cut this date short and get the hell out of here.
“Yeah, you don’t mind right?” When I don’t answer, he looks a little unsure. “I hope ordering dessert before you’ve even had your main meal isn’t bad date etiquette.”
I think when it comes to bad date etiquette, I have bigger infractions than him.
“Uh, no. Go ahead.”
Byron takes out my chair for me again and I almost tell him not to bother. That I’m not worth it. That I’m a horrible person who might or might not be in love with two men.
“By the way,” Byron leans over the table when he’s seated, “I get the vibe that the kid who served us earlier isnotreally Irish. Have you ever heard an accent that bad?”
I bare my teeth in what I hope is a convincing smile.
“So,” Byron gestures to me, “tell me more about you.”
“I think I’ve discussed that over our texts,” I mutter, pushing my food around in my plate.
“Well, why don’t you tell me what you like in a guy?” Byron laughs. “And not just the ‘kind, intelligent, good humor’ stuff on your dating profile. Like the heart of it.”
I’m very uncomfortable right now. Not just with the conversation, but mentally and physically. My underwear is ruined and makes sitting down a challenge. Plus I can still smell Clay on my neck.
I swallow hard. “At the heart of it, I only want two things.”
“What are they?”
“He has to be faithful and want a family.”
“You want kids?”
“I do.”
“Would you date a guy with kids?”