It flashes through my mind at warp speed, from the moment I met Lauren at a local fundraiser, to the day she ended things. I thought I’d found someone who made perfect sense for my life, who wanted exactly what I wanted—a meaningful career in medicine, a routine, tidy life. Turns out, I’d just found someone who saw me as useful for a time, and then perfectly easy to leave behind when I no longer suited her purposes.

I’ve cited the rough breakup as an excuse to decline social situations for the past year, when really I’m simply too weary to even think about trying with someone again, only to not be enough, to once more have the rug pulled out from under me. No, a long, uneventful bachelorhood is all I need, and avoiding socializing best accomplishes that. Unfortunately, it seems my breakup-recovery excuse has expired with Jean-Claude, who pulled the It’s my birthday, I’m your roommate, and it’s rude not to come card.

He knew it would work. He was right.

“If you’re not miserable, then why are you wallowing?” he asks.

“I’m not wallowing.”

“You are.” He swirls his drink, pale blue eyes narrowed on me in analysis. “And it’s time for you to have some fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yes. Fun. Like tonight. This is fun.”

“Hmm.” I scratch my cheekbone where the mask is aggravating it. “Must ‘fun’ involve being so itchy? This is polyester, isn’t it?”

Jean-Claude rolls his eyes behind a rather chilling cobra mask, then turns and examines himself in the hallway mirror, fussing with the tousled style of his brown hair, which he spends a heinous amount of time on every morning, making it look like he spends no time on it at all. “I don’t know what the mask is made of. But I do know you make a very good lion. Now we just have to find someone to make you roar.”

“Get out of here. Go. Mingle.”

He claps my back. “We’re going to enjoy ourselves tonight! Love is in the air, the wine is flowing.” He grins, backing away. “You never know what will happen.”

My stomach sours. That look. I know that look. It’s mischief.

I want as much distance from it as possible. So I wend my way through the crowd, searching for an isolated corner of the house to sit in, where I can pull out my phone and read. Just for a bit. Thank God for smartphones to sneak-read e-books.

“West! Hello again.” One of Juliet’s friends hooks an arm in mine. I only just met her, the one with dark curls and a fox mask. I need a moment before I can recall her name.

“Hello, Margo.”

She smiles. “Looking for something?”

“Just somewhere quiet to sit.”