Page 3 of Desired Hearts (Bachelor Pact #2)

DELANEY

“Jules to the rescue.”

I pressed pause on the remote as Juliette, otherwise known as Jules, stepped inside waving a bottle of my favorite wine in the world.

“No,” I said. “You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

Taking off her jacket, Jules put down the bottle of Aonair wine. It was a hundred-dollar bottle from a small winery in Sonoma that we only pulled out on special occasions.

And tonight was certainly no special occasion. My poor friend was in for a heap of moping and commiserating, which was why I told her to go out without me. But she refused.

“It’s so cozy in here,” she said, heading to the kitchen.

When I moved back to Cedar Falls, finding this old Victorian home just a few blocks off the square felt like kismet.

On a quaint, tree-lined street within walking distance to the pharmacy, the only thing it needed was some fresh paint.

Courtesy of my dad and his painter friend, a cheerful shade of blue greeted me every day.

Before the winter hit, two rocking chairs and some hanging plants made it a perfect welcome home after a long day at work.

“You’re brooding again,” Jules said, handing me a glass of wine. Grabbing a fuzzy blanket, she situated herself on the other couch. “I love your house.”

Jules lived in an apartment, and I’d told her more than once she was welcome to move in.

“I think you love it more than me,” I said. She was staring at the stone fireplace which, unfortunately, used real wood. The aesthetic was great, but it was a pain in the ass to keep wood and get started.

“Honestly, I do. It’s like a writer’s paradise.”

“Speaking of writing, how did that article about the birthplace of the women’s rights movement do?”

Jules loved writing, but hated the fact that it was her nonfiction that brought home the bacon.

“It was well received,” she said, tucking her feet under her.

Jules’s shoulder-length black hair was held back by a bandanna.

The multiple silver necklaces, always present, gave her an edgy look, exactly the opposite of my own.

Red hair and a smattering of freckles tended to evoke more wholesome vibes than “girl who lives on the edge.”

I took a sniff of the wine, intending to make every moment count. “I still can’t believe you brought this over on a random Friday night.”

Taking a sip, I let the burgundy liquid slide down my throat.

“You’ve had a rough week.” Jules took her own sip, the sound of a crackling fire the only one to fill the room.

With my TV still on pause, and the street I lived on filled with older people and almost always pretty quiet, we might as well have been in the middle of a forest. I didn’t count on that as a benefit of this house, and sometimes it was too quiet for me, but at this moment, it suited us.

“The worst,” I said after another few sips of wine, “is how angry I am for going back to him. I think I always knew he’d hurt me in the end. But I did it anyway.”

Jules had as sordid a dating history as me and could understand. “I know,” she said. “But love isn’t logical. We don’t always make the best decisions. But the past is in the past. Over and done with. No point in looking back. You’re not going that way.”

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel tears forming or the tingle of my cheeks that said they were coming.

My chest still hurt, but it was more like an emptiness than a knot twisting inside there.

I took another sip, not wanting to put the show back on.

For the past few weeks I alternated between work, the gym and home, usually numbing myself with reality TV.

All for some giant asshole who’d probably moved on the second after he broke up with me. Again.

“I’m done,” I said.

“With?”

“All of it. Moping over him. Hiding in my house. Feeling like shit. I’m done.”

Jules smiled. “I’d have brought the Aonair weeks ago if I knew it would be that easy.”

I lifted the glass. “This helped, no doubt. But I just think… being sad only gives him more power over me. But Makis isn’t in control of my life. I am. It’s time to act like it.”

Jules pulled the blanket over one of her feet, which were notoriously always cold.

“That’s my girl.”

“Remind me to listen to you next time you give me dating advice.”

Jules laughed. “Which specific piece of advice are we talking about?”

“The one about not having to try so hard to make it work. If he was meant to be in my life, he would be.”

“Sound advice.”

“That gem is from Pia, who knows a bit about the subject.”

Jules nodded. “She does. It’s hard to imagine now that she and Mason had any rough patches. Clearly they were meant to be together.”

“I’m happy for her,” I said sincerely.

“Same. Speaking of Mason, he does have two single hot men living with him. If you really are over the asshole Makis hump?—”

“First of all, no way. And second of all, no way.” I took a sip of wine, wishing I could be transported back to Sonoma.

“Too soon?”

“Much. Not to mention, I dated one of them already.”

“Does that really count, though? You were in middle school.”

I thought of Beck when we were young and, more recently, of him slinging drinks behind the bar at O’Malley’s. The vision was complete with no less than three females hanging off his arm drooling.

“Yes,” I insisted. “It counts. I’m also 0 percent interested in a serial dater like him.”

“You were the one who said no more relationships. I’d think he was perfect.”

“No. Not perfect.”

“And the other one? What’s his name?”

“Parker something or other. Mason and gang met him in college.”

“I’ve heard him mentioned here and there. Probably ran into him at some point.”

“Probably,” I agreed. Cedar Falls wasn’t that big, and while I hadn’t been back long, Jules never left. “Although you are a bit of a homebody so…”

“A bit?” She laughed.

“Okay, more than a bit.”

Jules suddenly leapt up. She took my glass and headed to the kitchen. “We are opposite in so many ways,” she said, refilling us.

I grabbed my phone. We’d talked about ordering some Chinese, and suddenly I was starving. “Don’t they say opposites attract?” I asked as Jules came back into the living room.

“I think that’s in terms of dating.” She handed back my wine, now filled.

“Hmm, well, either way.” I lifted my glass. As we clinked, I said, “To friends. I honestly don’t know what I’d have done without you and Pia these past few weeks.”

“You’d have been just fine.”

“Eventually. Maybe,” I said as Jules headed back to her couch. “Either way, I appreciate it. Chinese is on me. What are you getting?”

“Chicken and broccoli, white rice. And an egg roll.”

You’d have been just fine.

Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I was grateful for the friendships that had helped pull me through. I’d have relapses, obviously. Memories that would undoubtedly trigger me. But the moping had to stop. He just wasn’t worth it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen that famous Delaney smile.”

I looked up from my phone. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt like smiling.”

To think a man—no, a boy—had so thoroughly broken me. I thought I was stronger than that, but I guess life still had some lessons to share. My friends and family were all I needed. I might even put a “no boys allowed” sign on my front door.

“What’s so funny?” Jules asked as I called the restaurant.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just me being silly.”

“Delaney. Is. Back. I love it.”

“Yes,” I said, waiting for an answer and hoping to convince myself it was true. “Yes, she is.”