Dating Games(22)

“The Hamptons?” I swallow hard. I’d heard stories about those parties, mostly from Chloe, but you have to know someone to get an invitation. Hell, I’ve never even been north of Jones Beach on Long Island. The Hamptons is like a different world than what I know.

“Precisely. Men are protective and territorial by nature. In his mind, he can still stake a claim over you because you haven’t moved on. Attend enough of these parties on my arm, he’ll come to believe you have moved on. If his so-called ‘ownership’ over you is threatened, he’ll realize his mistake. He’ll never do that as long as you remain in his apartment, cook and clean for him, do his laundry like the status quo hasn’t changed. It has changed. And he needs to feel that change or he’ll never admit he fucked up. Trust me on this.”

I ponder his words for a moment, something not adding up. Maybe living in New York has made me more cynical. “I find it hard to believe any guy like you would proactively want to help a woman he’s slept with get back with her ex unless he wants a repeat. So, as enlightening as this entire conversation has been, it’s over. I’m not interested in a replay.” I turn from him, my legs not moving as fast as I wish they could.

“Evie, wait!” he calls, but I ignore him, continuing down the path. Then I hear him bellow, “We never slept together!”

I come to an abrupt stop, my pulse quickening. Passersby look in our direction, a few snickers and gasps ripping through the air, but I don’t pay them much attention, too shocked by his admission.

“What did you say?” I ask over my shoulder.

He advances toward me. “We never slept together.”

“But—” I square my shoulders, fully facing him.

“But then why would you wake up in a strange man’s bed in just your bra and panties?”

I nod, still shell-shocked by this revelation.

“Because you threw up all over your damn dress… And my shoes.”

Embarrassment fills me as I close my eyes, cringing. “I did?”

“Sure did.”

“But how—”

“When I headed up to my place, I saw someone who looked alarmingly like this beautiful, charismatic woman I’d witnessed tell an entire bar about her breakup that evening. So, out of curiosity, I walked up to her. That’s when I overheard you say you were never going to drink again.”

“To which you said, ‘That’s probably a good idea.’”

He smiles. “I did. To which you responded by emptying the contents of your stomach.”

I bury my head in my hands. “Oh god. I really am never drinking again. I’m so sorry.”

His arms wrap around me…unexpected, yet comforting. I inhale a breath, my muscles relaxing at his familiar aroma. “It’s okay. We all have those nights where the only cure is bourbon or tequila. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Not the first time I’ve had someone throw up on me. And it probably won’t be the last.”

“Unless you have some sick fetish, it should be.” I tilt my head up at him. “You don’t have some weird fetish where you pay people to puke on you, do you? That’s not why you want to do this, is it?”

He chuckles as he drops his hold on me. “Certainly not. No sick fetishes here.” He raises his hand. “Scout’s honor.”

I pinch my lips. “Why do I get the feeling you were never a Boy Scout?”

“Very observant of you. I wasn’t.”

There’s a brief silence before I speak again. “So you saw me drunk on the street, then what? You decided to take care of me when the rest of the city just walked right by?”

“What can I say? I know how it feels to be overlooked, to think no one notices you. Plus, you’d just had a horrible night. The last thing you should do on your thirtieth birthday is spend it in the drunk tank at the local police precinct. I brought you back to my place to make sure you were okay, that you weren’t about to pass out and choke on your own vomit.”

“You washed my dress,” I breathe. It’s not a question.

“You probably thought the worst of me when you woke up in my bed. I considered sleeping in one of the guest rooms, but the reason I brought you to my place was to keep an eye on you. I couldn’t do that if I slept in a different room. When I woke up and you weren’t there, I panicked. I could only imagine what you must have thought, and I hated the idea of you walking around thinking we slept together. I needed to track you down and explain. That’s why I searched for every name close to Evie on Facebook. I even went to the bar I first saw you at in the hopes I could find you.”

“I haven’t been in the drinking mood after that night. Plus, once my boss told me about the possible promotion, that’s been my focus.”

“I don’t take advantage of women,” he states with determination, his jaw firm. “Particularly drunk women. I just…” He blows out a breath. “I just wanted you to know the truth.”

I stare into the distance, reflecting on this new information. No one in the city cares about each other. It’s always every man for himself. The idea that Julian took it upon himself to make sure I was okay has me rethinking my original assumption.

“You really are a good guy,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.