What Lovers Do(16)

“I’m not taking him back. I just wasn’t expecting him to say the things he said. For a second, not even a full second, I felt sorry for him. He said I intimidate him and expressed how he was slipping into a depression, but he’s going to do better and he loves me. It was … sweet. I mean it was half-empty boxes of stale donuts and a slew of wadded up fast food bags all over my coffee table too late, but still …”

“No! Hell to the no.” Jules’s voice escalates. “We are not going there. Nothing about Jimmy is sweet any longer. If he brings home a dozen puppies, it’s not sweet. If he makes you dinner, lights candles, and offers to go down on you all night … it’s not sweet. Got it?”

“I’m not taking him back.” I laugh. “Just calm down, Jules. I’m one hundred percent sure of that. I think it’s nothing more than a glimpse of hope that we can end this amicably as adults. No lawsuit. No attorneys. No gossip. Nothing but two people who go our separate ways. I hate conflict.”

Jules hums. “I don’t feel your level of optimism. But I hope for your sake that Jimmy surprises us and does the right thing.”

“Me too. Hey, someone else is calling me. Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Bye, babe.”

I switch over to Shep. I didn’t expect him to call again so soon, but I’m giddy that it’s him, and that makes me cringe. I shouldn’t have called him the other day. It was a really weak moment, an escape from Jimmy. Now I’ve encouraged this … whatever this is. “Just be honest … am I your only friend?” I ask him without a “hello.”

“That’s harsh. And no, though I have a sneaking suspicion I am your only friend. Just checking in on you. Making sure you’re not home alone knitting your dog a hat, watching horrible reality TV, and dreaming of dating someone in the dark or marrying a guy the same day you meet him because a small room full of TV execs thinks you’re a perfect match.”

“I liked the show where they dated naked. I bet you’re a little too self-conscious to do that, huh?” I’ve known this guy two seconds, maybe three, yet it feels natural and easy to talk to him like we’ve been bantering for years. Maybe it’s easy because it’s going nowhere. There’s no risk for either one of us.

“Where are you?”

I catch myself grinning and immediately force a frown. “Driving home. Where are you?”

“Driving range. You should meet me.”

“We’re conversing. Meeting would be next level. I can’t do next level.”

You can’t do any level!

“It’s not a date. My stroke is way off. I need you to take a video of my swing so I can analyze it later.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I’m sure someone else can take a video for you. Didn’t you have a toddler friend who golfed with you? Or a stranger is fine. Just flash them that perfect smile of yours.”

“You like my smile, huh?” He’s such a flirt.

It does things to me. Or maybe that’s the tiny human growing in my uterus. “It’s not awful.”

“Topgolf. Bay 208. See you soon.” He disconnects the call.

I shake my head again. I didn’t agree to meet him. I’m not his personal videographer.

“Nope,” I murmur to myself, cruising toward home.

Turning around …

Heading to Topgolf.

It’s a video. No big deal, right?





Telling myself I’m just doing this to avoid Jimmy, I make my way to Topgolf. The host escorts me to Bay 208. And the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen shoots me his killer grin while standing with one foot crossed over the other, hand resting on his golf club. I nearly do a one-eighty and take my foolish self right back to my car.

“Heels for golf?”

I glance down at my black wedges. They look great with my yellow floral romper. “Neither my wedges nor I were planning on golfing today. And I’m not golfing. I’m taking a video of you. Then I’m leaving because I’m hungry. I skipped lunch.”

His gaze leaves my wedges via my legs. It’s a slow inching of his gaze that I can feel in places I’ve banned myself from feeling a man’s gaze.

You’re pregnant.

You’re going to get cankles.

Stretch marks.

Hemorrhoids.

Shep’s eyes find mine, and his ruddy lips pull into a sly grin as his tongue slides along his lower lip. He nods. “You can take them off, but not yet. I’m not done looking at you in them. Best view I’ve seen in a long time.”

Jesus …

The late afternoon sun feels like ice compared to Shep’s words. I start to say something smart, witty, but my voice won’t work.

“Don’t look so shocked, Sophie. Surely you’ve looked in a mirror.” He hands me his phone. “Take it from several angles.”

I nod repeatedly, rubbing my nervous lips together. Shep hits one ball after the next as I take the video.

“You don’t have a ninety-degree angle when you hinge your wrists at the top of your swing. See?” I show him the video and pause it.

He stares at the screen for several seconds before shifting his attention to me. “Dr. Ryan … do you golf?”

“Probably better than you, Shep.”