All I Ever Wanted(111)

“And I am! Ian, I’m not using you to get over Mark.”

“But you are,” he said. “You just admitted that.”

I swallowed. “Well, technically, to be perfectly honest, yes, I guess it started that way. But the turkey, that day…that wasn’t… You must know I care about you, Ian! Let’s not get caught up in details here.”

“The details happen to be very important to me, Callie,” he barked, causing me to jump. “I’ve already been with a woman who had a hidden agenda. I’ve already been with a woman who wanted to be with someone else.” His voice rose. “I’ve already been someone’s second choice. Every time I turn around, there he is. Jesus, Callie, you were kissing him!”

“Ian, stop!” I blurted. “I don’t love him anymore. You’re not going to find us in bed together!”

“I didn’t expect to find you kissing him, either!” he yelled. “But I just did! And you know what, Callie? Maybe you do still love him. Maybe once the newness of—” he flapped his hands in the space between us “—of this wears off, you’ll realize that Mark is the love of your life. And you know what? I don’t want to hang around to find out I’m the runner-up.”

“Wait,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m…” My stomach twisted. Oh, shit, this was hard to say, and this was not the time to say it, but I was desperate. “I’m in love with you, Ian. Not Mark.”

“You were in love with Mark just a couple months ago.”

“This is different,” I whispered. “I promise.”

He shoved his fists back in his pockets. “How do I know? How do you know, for that matter, Callie?”

“I just know.” Oh, Christ, talk about a lame answer! “Ian,” I whispered, “please don’t do this.”

But he’d already decided. His face fell back into that distant, reserved expression I’d seen too many times before. “I think it’s best if we just end things now,” he said quietly.

“I don’t. I think that’s a horrible idea,” I squeaked, tears splashing out of my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

And with that, he turned his back on me and walked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

LIFE REALLY SUCKED. You know? I had no job, my grandfather was dead, I’d finally fallen into a good love, and he dumped me.

Of course, my first instinct was to feel completely blameless. I had, in point of fact, done nothing wrong. Not one thing. Should I have kneed Mark in the groin? Would that have made Ian happy? I wasn’t really the groin-injury type, a fact I now deeply regretted. I never needed to kick a guy in the nuts, quite honestly. I’d always been able to (work, play, manipulate) deal with men before.

And as for the whole idea of scheming and planning and using Ian…I knew I hadn’t done that. There was nothing wrong with wanting to move on from a helpless, hopeless love, was there? Was it a sin to want something better?

“Not a sin,” Annie confirmed as we swilled cheap chablis the night after the stupid regatta. “Though this is why all the dating books say to give yourself a year after a breakup.”

“Well, I didn’t give it a year,” I said, wiping my eyes and throwing the tissue on the floor, where it joined its half-dozen brothers. “I never got to that chapter. And I think Ian would be honored. You know? Because he’s the healthy, stable, good man I chose over Captain Asshole.”

“Honored. You’re right.” She nodded wisely. She was spending the night, and though we had rented several Gerard Butler movies, they all sat untouched. “I guess he just doesn’t feel that…chosen. And therein lies the problem.”

“So how do I prove my love and all that crap?” I asked.

“No clue.” At my dark look, she added, “But we’ll find something. We will.”

I already missed Ian. How could I get through the day without that smile? He was so easy to tease, and when he smiled, it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Stupid, stupid Mark! He smiled all the time, like some slavering village idiot. Meaningless, empty, supermodel smiles, not that supermodels ever smiled, but you know what I mean.

“So what about Fleur?” Annie asked.

“I just ordered a voodoo doll on eBay,” I muttered.

“She’s always resented you. I can’t believe you never saw it.”

“Not helping,” I muttered.

“Well, let’s get her back, the jealous hag,” Annie said. “I know people.”

“You’re a school librarian,” I pointed out, pouring more wine for both of us. “You don’t know people. Not those people.”

“She’s a bitch.”

“Yes. She is. And her empty, bitter life will be punishment enough.”

“Not for me,” Annie said. “Let’s key her car.”

“The thing is,” I said, wiping my endlessly leaking eyes once more, “I know how Ian is. He’s like cement. This is just going to sit there in his heart and harden, and I’ll never…” A little sob squeaked out… “I should call him. Don’t you think?”

“Shit, no. You’re not calling him. Give me your cell phone. Oh. Oh, no.” She closed her eyes. “You called him, didn’t you?”