Ugh, she recognized that shrill little beep. That was Greg’s car. It seemed he’d made good on his promise to drop by. She’d been hoping to avoid that. Mentally bracing herself, she resisted the urge to lock the door on him and instead stepped out onto the front porch to meet him. “Hi, Greg.”

To her surprise, he leaned in and tried to kiss her. She sidled away, giving him a curious look. What the heck was that?

“Long time no see,” Greg said, giving her his famously charming smile. It was bizarre to see it, because once upon a time she’d melted at the sight of that smile, and now it just irritated her. Greg was everything that Hank wasn’t. He was trim and always dressed in a neat casual suit or a button-down. His hair always looked fantastic—or it had in the past thanks to her—and he was slick and dashing and knew he could charm his way through life.

Hank’s hair always looked like it needed a trim. He scowled. He wore plaid.

Yet somehow that seemed far more appealing now, far more real. She no longer trusted Greg’s easy smiles, because he smiled when he wanted something from you. And while she didn’t hate the man, she still resented that he’d wasted years of her life when she’d wanted to settle down and start a family. He’d dangled marriage in front of her like a prize, made her pay for it, and then abandoned her two days before the wedding.

Okay, she was still a bit resentful.

“You didn’t text me back,” Greg told her, still grinning. He reached out and touched her shoulder, then rubbed her arm. “I hope it’s okay I stopped by.”

“Does it matter?” she said tightly.

“Becca,” he said, mock groaning. “We were friends for so long. Don’t keep shutting me out. Can’t we go back to being friends?”

“Not yet.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You hurt me, badly. I’m allowed to take my time to get over it.”

“I just . . . miss you.” He leaned in, resting his hand on the doorjamb. It meant he was also leaning perilously close to her, because she refused to budge an inch. “I miss having you in my bed. I miss being with you.”

She watched him cynically. She’d fallen for this act before, when she’d given him a quiet ultimatum or two. They’d break up for two days or so, he’d confess how much he missed her, and then they’d end back up in bed together and a couple once more. He’d been so good at playing her.

Now she just felt . . . annoyed. Did he think she was still this stupid? “Dating pool run dry? You not getting laid?”