Four days have slipped by since the night at New Scenic Café.
It’s hard to believe, but then I think back to the absolute clusterfuck that was Monday with Jillian and I remember, yes, it’s been one hell of a week so far.
On the upside, each day has been filled with a whirlwind of texts from Adam. His messages have been so playful and encouraging and it keeps reminding me of how much has changed between us.
The thought sends a flutter through my stomach.
Our conversations are easy, filled with laughter and teasing, and a smidge of innuendo. But there’s an undercurrent of something deeper, something that’s been steadily growing since Sunday.
It’s exciting and terrifying all at the same time, especially when I think about the personal training sessions he proposed.
Starting Monday, I’ll be stepping into a new kind of routine with him—one that’s both about fitness and something more personal.
And then there’s tomorrow …
We have another official date—this time at Hanabi for sushi.
The thought sends another flutter through my stomach, but it’s mixed with a growing unease that I haven’t been able to fully shake off.
That moment at the end of our kiss continues to haunt my mind. It was the stirring of a realization I can’t quite seem to wrap my head around.
His scent, up close and personal, reminded me so much of the sexy, mysterious man from Nocté.
It was a powerful, potent thing that made my heart race and my nether regions heat up in unexpected ways.
And then there was that quick inhalation—it was so subtle, but it was identical to the way the other man reacted before our first kiss.
I’m used my overactive imagination. Usually, I know when to dismiss it.
But no matter what I do, I can’t shake the thought away.
Could Adam be the same guy from Club Nocté?
It seems ludicrous, yet it clings to me, refusing to be dismissed.
My writer’s brain is screaming ‘alert, alert!’ and it’s very rarely wrong. At least—where books are concerned.
But this is no book.
It’s real life.
As I walk the street, my mind continues to twist through scenarios.
If he was at that event at Nocté, then that would mean he was cheated on, too.
That’s how their rules work.
It’s a painful thought, and part of me aches for him, for both of us. If it’s even true.
But it’s a wild tangent, isn’t it?
The odds are—well, let’s just say I should play the lottery before something like this could be real.
Shaking my head, I try to stuff all of the questions aside.
Tonight is about escaping into the world of books at the Dirty B’s book club. Hanging out with those crazy ladies is quickly becoming my safe haven. It’s a place where romance isn’t just a possibility—it’s a certainty, neatly contained within the pages of our latest read.
When I’m finally standing in front of Dirty Books, I take a deep breath, ready to dive into discussions about fictional love stories—and forget my tangled thoughts for a beat. It’s easier to think about someone else’s heartache and happiness.
As I walk in, the familiar scent of books and the laughter of my fellow book lovers greet me.
“Carlie? Is that you?” Tasia calls out from the book nook.
I step up onto my tiptoes, trying to get a view of them. But the shelves are too high.
“Yep,” I call out.
“Can you lock the door?” she fires back.
I nod, more to myself, since she can’t see me. “Sure thing.”
Locking the door behind me, I attempt a smooth turn only to fumble with the book in my hand. It clatters to the floor with an echoing thud that seems to announce my arrival more effectively than any words could.
I don’t know why I’m still surprised.
Bending down to retrieve it, I mutter under my breath, “Smooth move, Carlie. First rule of the book club—don’t break the book.”
Straightening up, I can’t help but let out a small chuckle, hoping no one noticed my little mishap, but in the back of my mind, I know everyone heard. How could they not?
As I walk through the rest of the store and step into the cozy warmth of the book nook, I tuck the rebellious book under my arm, reminding myself that the night is about relaxation and camaraderie—not about how gracefully I can walk.
The lively chatter and the comfortable clutter of books and cushions immediately set me at ease. It also helps that there’s wine being poured.
Oh yes, come to momma.
Per usual, Tasia and Vivian are sitting in two of the three cushy wingback chairs, while Lily and Anna are nestled on the loveseat, deep in conversation.
Lily, with her ever-present sense of calm, is flipping through the pages of her book, while Anna’s face is buried in her phone, her brows knit in concentration.
As I approach, Anna glances up. “Hey, Carlie,” she greets casually. Then, her demeanor shifts as she sets her phone in her lap and turns to Lily with her jaw clenched. “Joel fucking Price is playing at Nocté next month? Did you know about this?”
Lily looks over at her, a flicker of interest crossing her face before she shrugs nonchalantly.
But I caught that look.
She definitely knew.
“Um, who’s that?” Vivian asks, her gossip radar clearly on high alert.
Anna takes a deep breath through her nose and from here, it looks like she’s fighting hard not to roll her eyes. “Only the most obnoxious musician on the planet.”
“Joel Price? I think his music is pretty good,” Tasia admits, her focus narrowing in on Anna.
I take my seat quietly observing and accepting the glass of wine Tasia offers.
“Thanks,” I whisper to her with a grin.
Anna picks up her phone, shaking her head in disgust. “He’s so … irritating.”
“Isn’t he from Duluth?” Tasia asks, taking a sip of her wine.
Anna practically snorts. “Yeah. That matters why?”
Vivian leans in, her head tilting slightly. “Dish, Chang. What’s got your panties in such a twist about this guy? He an ex or something?” she asks, her eyes sparkling as she starts tapping her knees with her fingertips.
“Anna has exes?” Tasia quips, a knowing glint sparking in her gaze.
Anna’s eyes narrow and she practically spits venom. “Fuck no. I wouldn’t touch that man with a barge pole.”
“That’s not what it sounds like,” Vivian counters with a smug grin.
Anna’s intense reaction has piqued everyone’s interest, but she waves off the inquiries with a dismissive gesture. “Let’s just say I’ve had enough of his type. All show and no substance.” She huffs a heavy sigh, then turns her attention back to her phone. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about my personal grudges. I was just curious if Lily was aware.”
“I’ll ask London about it,” Lily offers with a shrug, but her gaze flits to mine for a moment and this time, I’m sure of the look I receive. There’s a hint of something hidden in their depths and she thinks I know something.
Do I know something?
“Cool.” Anna offers a curt nod. Under her breath, she mutters, “Then I’ll know whether or not I need to plan a trip to Fiji that weekend.”
We all shoot her a confused glance, but Tasia claps her hands together. “Alright, ladies, let’s get down to business. Tonight’s discussion is about ‘Whispers of Desire’ by Isabella Hartley. Everyone finished?”
Vivian, always the first to dive into book discussions if she can steer it toward the steamy sex, leans forward, her eyes alight. “I loved it. The chemistry between the main characters was off-the-charts hot. And that scene in the rain? Whew! Who wouldn’t love that?
I chuckle, sipping my wine. “It was pretty steamy. Hartley really knows how to write sexual tension.”
Lily nods in agreement, her expression thoughtful. “It’s not just the physical stuff she nails, though. The emotional depth she brings to her characters ... It’s compelling.”
Tasia nods, her fingers tracing the book’s cover. “I appreciated the subplot with the heroine’s career. It wasn’t just a love story—it was about her journey, too.”
Anna, now more relaxed, chimes in. “True. And the way Hartley portrayed Brock’s vulnerability? That was refreshing. Not all ambition and no heart—or brains,” she adds with a huff.
“Like a guy with heart, huh?” Vivian teases, then hides her grin behind a sip of wine.
Anna shoots Vivian a glare, but there’s a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Yeah, well, who doesn’t appreciate a little depth in their characters, right?”
“Depth, huh?” Vivian continues, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Anna shakes her head and continues to scroll through her phone.
The discussion meanders through various aspects of ‘Whispers of Desire,’ from character development to plot twists. I find myself joining in, laughing, and sharing opinions, yet part of me is still preoccupied with thoughts of Adam.
Midway through the conversation, Lily, with her innate ability to observe and reflect, subtly shifts the topic.
“Sometimes, we see what we want to see in people,” she says thoughtfully, her eyes meeting mine for a moment. “We paint them in the colors of our past experiences—for better or worse.”
Her words resonate with me, echoing my own conflicted feelings. It’s as if she’s peering right into my soul, seeing the turmoil I’ve been wrestling with.
Tasia nods, leaning back in her chair. “True. We can get so caught up in our own narratives that we forget to see the person right in front of us. Daniel would say I’ve been known to do that.”
Lily chimes in, her voice gentle. “It’s a delicate balance, isn’t it? Trusting your instincts while giving someone new a fair chance. How are things with Daniel, by the way?”
Tasia offers a small one-sided shrug. “The same.”
Lily’s expression turns thoughtful and it’s clear there’s more understanding between the two of them than what the rest of us are privy to.
“Is Daniel your boyfriend?” I ask, since this is the first time his name’s been brought up.
Tasia practically snorts into her wine. “No, not for a long time.”
“Daniel’s Tasia’s husband,” Lily offers with a smile.
“Oh,” I say, nodding in understanding.
Though, why it’s taken me four months of meeting weekly to come to that understanding, makes me think things are not going stellar in their relationship.
Anna, now looking up from her phone, adds, “Relationships are complicated. Sometimes what you think you know about someone—or how you feel—it changes over time.”
Vivian nods, her voice more of a whisper than I’ve ever heard from her. “And sometimes, you realize that the person you thought you knew never really existed. They were just a figment of your imagination.”
Anna drops her phone looking impressed, though she doesn’t say so.
The conversation becomes a blend of personal experiences and philosophical musings. Tasia talks about the evolution of her relationship with Daniel, how they’ve grown and changed together, and the challenges they’ve faced.
She loves him, that much is evident. Yet somehow, she still feels like the relationship is missing something, but she can’t figure out what.
“It’s about growing together, but also allowing each other to grow individually,” Tasia says softly. “It’s not always easy, but I think in the end, it’s worth it. At least, I think.”
“With Seth, for a long time, I lost myself trying to be what I thought he wanted. I guess he was doing the same for me, come to think of it. With London, it’s different. I can be myself, weird and quirky even, and that’s made all the difference,” Lily says with a love-struck sigh.
Something stirs in my chest and I realize I’m so happy for Lily. Getting to where she is with London took a big leap of faith.
“I’ve learned the hard way that trust is a fragile fucking thing. It takes a lot to rebuild once it’s broken,” Anna offers, her lips pressing tightly.
Vivian nods. “Trust is like a mirror. Once it’s shattered, you can try to piece it back together, but the cracks will always show.”
Again, Anna glances at Vivian like she’s grown a second head.
I can attest to her words, though. Especially when I think back to my relationship with Michael. Those cracks never faded away. They grew bigger and bigger until they practically consumed my soul.
As the discussion winds down, I find myself reflecting on my situation with Adam.
The insights from these women, each with their own unique experiences, help me see things from a different perspective. It’s not just about my fears or insecurities—it’s about giving Adam, and myself, a chance to discover what could be.
Even if he’s the guy from Nocté?
That thought strikes me and a jolt of panic courses through me.
The man from Nocté met a completely different woman that night.
I’m nothing like Zoey …
And I’d hate for Adam to be that man, only to discover—I’m not that woman.