The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(90)

Wanting this woman is torture. Loving this woman is fucking humiliating.

This shit has to end, but lately, I can’t seem to breathe without the air scraping the rawness in my chest. The hurt only fuels my anger. I’m drowning in resentment, teetering on the brink of love and hate for her. All of that effort, everything I did to earn my family, was for nothing.

Because she’s with him.

And right now, I’d give anything, do anything, to make this ache in my chest cease.

We haven’t spoken. No words, just texts, and all of them about Dante. She’s working her ass off. I know that much by the absence of her SUV in the late hours of the night. She hasn’t once looked my way when we’ve crossed paths, and I know it has everything to do with my threats. It’s as if I took the knife from my own heart and drove it straight into her back. I went there, to a place she’s not likely to forgive me for. And I did it purposefully, eradicating our chances because, without trust, we have nothing. And with that decision, that’s exactly what we are, nothing. But today she threw the dagger back the second she got into that BMW. The proverbial nail in our coffin.

With the work done and the start of my future mere weeks away, I can’t seem to take a step forward or in any direction.

I need something other than the constant need I battle with daily, to be close, to reclaim my family, my place. But it’s no longer mine, so instead, I reach for my next beer.

And that’s when I see her, my mystery girl, sauntering up to my party. Her sudden appearance jars me, and I take it as a sign. And this time, I won’t take no for an answer.





Diane’s Pasta Salad

Sales Rep-Rhode Island



Makes 8 servings





30 minutes


Tri-Color Pasta (or pasta of your choice) Zesty Italian Dressing (Preferably Kraft or Wal-Mart brand) Mozzarella Cheese – cut into cubes Broccoli Florets

Cauliflower Florets

Sliced Olives

Cherry Tomatoes – Halved (or diced tomatoes) Purple Onion – Chopped

Ham or Salami – cubed



The amount of each ingredient depends on number of people to be served. One package of pasta makes enough for a family.



Mix all ingredients adding Italian Dressing to taste.



Chill for a few hours before serving.





Clarissa



Parker: You need to come home. Now. Some shit just went down next door. Something’s wrong.



“Where are you tonight?” Brett says, sipping his coffee.

I close my laptop, satisfied with my progress. “Brett, I need to get home. Something’s come up. I’m sorry. I’m going to have to cut this short.”

“Sure.” Ever the gentleman, he helps me slip on my coat and opens my car door. Once inside, he glances over at me as he starts the drive toward my house.

“There’s a spring carnival coming up. What do you think about us going together? Maybe bringing Dante?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, pulling up to a stoplight. “I figured as much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“Yes. Very much so. But you should know when you and I started dating, I had the same intentions you did.”

“It’s fine,” he glances over at me. “I waited too long and it cost me.”

“Please tell me we can be friends. You did me a huge favor tonight and I’m thankful for all your help.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, you’re ready. You’ll do great.”

“Thank you. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. And as soon as you pass, we’ll get you situated somewhere.”

“I can’t take a job at your agency, Brett.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable. I hope you understand.”

“Okay, I’ve got a few contacts I can send your way.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Minutes later, I’m sifting through my notes on my phone when Brett pulls up to my house, stopping at the curb. I turn to him.

“Clarissa, I would hate myself if I didn’t at least try—”

I shake my head, cutting him off. “Brett, I’m sorry. I just want to focus on getting my license and on Dante right now. I’m nowhere near ready for anything else.”

“Okay, but I hoped,” he leans over, giving me a chaste kiss, and I let him but the truth of the matter is, I’ll never want for another man’s kiss the way I do Troy’s. I’m irrevocably in love with him. Something I realized far too late.

“I swore there was something there.”

“There was, I just…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He nods toward the porch. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s sorry.”

I look over, my heart sinking when I see Troy sitting there with a clear view into the car. Unfastening my seat belt, I glance over at Brett, “You kissed me knowing he was watching?”