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I’m chewing on my lip when Ruby hands me a cold soda. “Drink this. It’ll help you cool off.”

“I’m cool. I’m better than cool. I’m so cool…” I’m like Riley. I’m having a breakthrough. “I’m not crying anymore. I’m not waiting around anymore. I’m going on a date.”

“Oh!” Ruby bounces on the balls of her feet. “Let me set you up on Bumble!”

Shaking my head, I hold up a hand. “I’m going out with Ralph Stern.”

“No!” My best friend draws back in shock. “Not the almond king! Try a dating app first.”

“After all the horror stories you’ve tol

d me? No thank you. At least I know what to expect with Ralph.”

“You expect to age a hundred years in an hour? To die a slow, painful death of massive boredom covered in almond milk?”

“Ralph is not that bad.”

“Ralph is that bad.” She slaps her hand against her forehead. “Sure, he lost the braces and grew two feet and got better looking, but he would never find your clit. Not even if it had an almond on it.”

She’s probably right, but I’m not in the mood to defend Ralph. My mind is too busy brooding over my morning. Also, I am not having sex with Ralph Stern. Ew.

“If he’s having survivor guilt, why won’t he talk to me?” I cross my arms over my stomach. “Nobody knows Gray like I do. I’m a therapist…”

“Maybe… But didn’t we learn it’s not always a good idea to treat close friends or family?” Ruby takes her copies off the machine. “Like how surgeons don’t do surgery on their own loved ones?”

“Now you suddenly remember what we learned in college.”

“Don’t be shitty. I’m trying to help you.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter now. I’m moving on!”

“You’re moving in the wrong direction.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not sitting around waiting to find out anymore.

Feeling energized, I return to my office. I have two more clients to see today, and I’m not letting a man mess up my career. Especially not a man with as little loyalty as Grayson Cole.

I’m exhausted from fighting thoughts about Gray all day when my last client leaves. It’s five o’clock, and I have a text waiting on my cell. Of course, it’s him.

Gray: Car’s ready for pickup. Good and bad news.

He’s got a lot of nerve texting me about my car, I mentally huff. Although, I suppose it’s what a mechanic is supposed to do when he’s working on your car. Still, I’m not ready to let Gray off the hook.

When I arrive at the garage, the doors are closed, but I hear voices coming from inside. Thankfully, they’re both male voices. I wonder if I should knock. Instead, I just open the door. It is a place of business, after all.

Gray’s eyes light up briefly when they meet mine, and I shove down the rise in my stomach at the sight of it.

I don’t care.

“I’m here to pick up my car.” I stop just inside the door and wait as Billy slides off the chair where he was sitting and goes to the rack of keys.

“Right.” Gray clears his throat, clears away his obvious interest. Whatever. “So the engine turns over. The electrical system checks out, and the cooling and lubrication systems are all working and leak free.”

I take the keys from Billy when he hands them to me. “You said there was bad news?”

He takes a pair of heavy black glasses out of his pocket before he reads the clipboard. I’m not prepared for how my insides react to this new bit of information. He needs glasses? Also, he looks damn sexy with this new sexy-nerdy thing going on.

“The transmission will need to be replaced. Also, the brake pads are pretty worn, and it needs new tires.” Blue eyes blink up at me behind those glasses.