Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
To be honest, I didn’t believe Taylor had any reason to worry anymore. Keira was doing well in school. She was smarter than most of her peers and didn’t have to struggle to get a decent grade.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Taylor smiled and completely ruined her coffee by emptying four packets of artificial sweetener into the mug. That was worse than Pipsqueak dumping a truckload of sugar into hers. “She’s more talkative at home, too.”
“That’s good.” I shrugged out of my jacket and caught sight of an optician’s place across the street. It reminded me that I had to bite the bullet and make an appointment soon.
“So, you said something last time that made me think.” Taylor wasn’t wasting any time. “You said you’re not ready to date.”
“Yeah?” I sipped my coffee, then leaned back in my seat.
“When you were my teacher, you were married,” she went on and quirked a brow.
She was asking if there was any correlation, I assumed.
I drew a breath and let the reminder of Angie wash over me. Fragments of memories flickered before my eyes, the hell culminating with my getting arrested.
“It ended as badly as it could, basically,” I admitted with a slow nod. “She betrayed me, and then… Let’s just say I went after her tenfold. Some of which she probably didn’t deserve.”
I waited for the regret to sink in, regret at opening up, but there was nothing. Not a damn thing.
It was a fucking relief.
“And you haven’t dated since?” Taylor seemed surprised by that.
“I’m not a serial dater. On the contrary, it takes me quite a while to move on.”
She smiled wryly. “And here I was, thinking men got over one woman by getting under another.”
“Uh.” I snorted and rubbed the back of my neck. Getting under a woman—or behind one—didn’t mean there would be a relationship to speak of. “It’s not as if I’ve been a monk.”
“Gotcha.” She eyed me contemplatively. “So, how is having coffee with me a way to use me?”
Yeah, that was the question I’d been waiting for.
The first time I’d proposed we go out for coffee—to talk—it’d been to get a better feel for her recovery. I hadn’t wanted to insert myself into anything that might result in a setback in her grieving process. Or worse, anything that would allow her to develop an unhealthy coping mechanism. But in the end, I’d discovered the chats were beneficial to me too. She got to talk about her parents and sister, and I was given the opportunity to analyze a woman I didn’t detest, as well as push myself to be nicer.
“By doing this.” I gestured between us. “By sitting here, listening to you, by answering your questions without telling you to fuck off and mind your own business.” I mustered a smile to show I was kidding. Somewhat.
She chuckled at least. “It’s been that bad?”
She’d never know more than a fraction of it.
“You could say that.” I took another swig of my coffee. “I’ve been…unfair, to put it mildly. I’ve let my less-than-stellar experience with women determine that all women were terrible.”
Something softened in Taylor’s eyes. “Women do that all the time too. It takes two shitty boyfriends, and then we’re telling our friends that guys suck.”
“Heh.” I exhaled a laugh, and I actually appreciated her saying that. That said, my feelings toward women had gone beyond saying “they suck.”
This felt good, though. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t a bitter outcast who’d grown up without guidance and someone to tell me there were plenty of fish in the sea. In Taylor’s eyes, I was merely another schmuck who’d been slapped with trust issues from a bad marriage.
She knew there was more than that, but she didn’t push. For now, anyway.
The whole experience was leaving me frustrated and a bit embarrassed, because it was in times like these that it became painfully clear how poorly I’d been raised. Childhood to me had been a matter of life and death. I’d been stunted emotionally and probably bit harder than most, like some abused dog. Having never been taught how to compartmentalize or process feelings, I’d become unpredictable and sometimes volatile. If there was a threat, I charged. Hard and fast.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Taylor asked.
Damn. I hadn’t even realized I’d spent however long staring at my coffee.
“I was just…puzzling together some pieces about myself, I guess.”
“And you don’t feel like sharing them with the class,” she said knowingly.
I smiled slightly. “Correct, but if it makes you feel better, it’s partly because of you. Meeting you. I’m glad that happened.”
“Oh wow.” She grinned and tapped her chin. “That may be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I chuckled.
Out on the street, I spotted Darius and Willow, both carrying their gym bags. Probably heading to Ethan’s gym.