Blitz: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy (Blast Brothers Book 3), стр. 57

I didn't think so. But I couldn’t say for sure either way.

By the time we declined dessert and ordered another bottle of wine, the sun had already set, and our server had lit the candle on our table, leaving us bathed in soft, soothing light.

It was then, after Chase refilled my wine glass for the third time, that he leaned across the table and said in a low voice, "So, are you gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"The deal with Bryce."

The question caught me off guard. "Sorry, what?"

With a shameless grin, he said, "What, you thought I wasn't gonna ask?"

"Um, yeah. Actually, I thought if you hadn't asked by now…" With a shrug, I let the sentence trail off as if that were the end of it.

Apparently not.

He asked, "So, when'd it happen?"

I grimaced at the memory. "A really long time ago."

"It couldn’t have been too long," he said. "You're blushing."

I tried to laugh. "Yeah, because it's embarrassing."

"Why?" Chase said. "He's the dumb-ass, not you."

It was such a sweet thing to say, and not for the first time, I couldn’t help but marvel at how different this Chance was compared to the guy I'd met on the sidewalk all those weeks ago.

As far as Bryce, I had to be honest. "Actually, he's not that dumb. He was in pre-med, so he's probably almost a doctor by now."

Chase scoffed, "What, like doctors can't be dumb, too?"

With a shaky laugh, I replied, "Yeah, I guess."

His gaze met mine as he asked in a surprisingly gentle tone, "So, you wanna talk about it?"

I did. And I didn't. The funny thing was, even though I'd been dreading him asking, part of me was touched that he cared enough to want to know.

With this in mind, I laid out the basics. "There's not much to tell. We dated maybe ten months, and if I'm being totally honest, things were already going downhill when it happened."

"It," he said. "Meaning him getting with the girl in the red dress?"

"Yup." I blew out a long, shaky breath. "Good ol' Emory. Get this. He comes home for spring break, supposedly so we can figure things out. And you wanna know where he ends up?"

His eyebrows lifted. "Is that a trick question?"

Of course, I knew what he meant. "Okay, yes, he ended up in her 'pants.' But that's not all. He also ended up in Florida. With her."

"Why Florida?"

"Because that's where Ginger has a condo."

"So how'd that happen?"

"You mean how'd they end up there? According to Bryce, Emory invited him like two days after they met. She called it a surprise vacation." I shook my head. "But the only person surprised was me. And the worst part was, Emory and I were friends at the time."

"You and her?" Chase gave me a dubious look. "I'm not seeing it."

"Okay, well, I guess you could say we were more like frenemies, carrying on the family tradition and all."

"So there's a tradition, huh?"

"Is there ever," I said. "Her mom and my mom were also frenemies. And they still are." I leaned further across the table. "Do you know, my dad dated Ginger for a while?"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. "And the way I hear it, Ginger and my dad had one heck of a breakup. They were still in high school, but apparently, things got pretty ugly."

Chase gave a slow nod, as if he finally understood. "So your dad left Ginger for your mom, huh?"

I drew back. "No. Of course not."

"Hey, I'm just asking."

"I know. And I’m just saying, my mom's not like that. And neither is my dad."

Across the table, Chase looked almost amused. "Good to know."

"Sorry." I winced. "I guess I'm a little defensive, but the whole thing has been going on forever. And here's the crazy thing. My mom and dad didn't even start dating until after their high school graduation. By then, Ginger was engaged to somebody else – husband number-one by the way."

"The first of three, right?"

I was surprised that he knew this, until I recalled Emory in the commercial kitchen, making some snide remark about Ginger shopping for husband number-four.

"Right," I said. "And even though Ginger was already engaged, she wasn't happy when my mom and dad got together." I rolled my eyes. "She was even less happy when they got married."

"And you know this, how?"

"Trust me," I laughed. "Everyone knows everything."

Chase gave me a long, penetrating look. "Want to know what I know?"

"What?"

He leaned toward me as if preparing to share a secret. But the secret never came, because before he could say a single word, a different voice, this one all-female, practically hissed, "Nice dress."

With a start, I turned to look. And right there, hovering beside our table, was someone I knew all too well – not because I'd seen her in person, but because I'd seen her face on the cover of a book.

Yes.

That book.