Instead, I tell Bea, “It’s ultimately better. We were similar but not well suited. I understand that now, and I try not to hold it against her.”

“Even if you have your head wrapped around it, that’s still hurtful.” Bea’s eyes flutter open and meet mine. “I’m sorry it happened.”

My thumb drifts to her jawline, the soft skin beneath her mouth. “Thank you. But I’m glad it ended.”

Because if it hadn’t . . . well, where would I be? Living that tidy, neat life I have for so long. A life, I’ve realized recently, that I wasn’t nearly as content with as I’d told myself I was.

“You’re glad?” Bea asks.

I search her eyes, my touch savoring her warmth, her softness. “I am.”

Our gazes lock, and Bea leans in. I lean closer. And then she cups my jaw and gives me a long, deep kiss that turns my blood hot, makes me grip the table’s edge so I don’t topple over as I breathe her in and take our kiss deeper. She tastes so damn perfect, like her mouth was made for mine, like we were designed to do this. A soft sigh leaves her as my tongue strokes hers, as I slip my hand into her hair and fist those soft, dark waves. When she pulls away, there’s a satisfied smile on her face.

I stare at her, stunned. “What was that for?”

Picking up her pen, Bea resumes drawing on the paper napkin. I realize she’s drawing me. She nods slightly toward the outside, where Lauren stands waiting for a cab, directly in our line of sight. “That was what all our kisses are for, James. Revenge.”

· TWENTY-ONE ·

Bea

“Game night has commenced. Where are you?” Jamie’s voice is on speakerphone as I shimmy up my panties and smooth down my dress.

“Work still. Almost time to close, though. You’re there already?”

“Jean-Claude said he got tied up at work, so I came early to help with setup.”

My heart does a tiny backflip. “That’s nice of you.”

“It was nothing. Christopher was here, too, being useful, so all I ended up doing was setting out a few condiments and tidying up a certain someone’s colorful trail of socks, hair ties, and fine-tipped markers. Ahem.”

“It’s like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs. They lead you straight to my room.”

“Which is where I remain. Cornelius and I are bonding.”

I catch my reflection in the mirror as I wash my hands. I’m smiling. “He’s a good morale booster. He’ll help you get psyched up for our performance tonight.”

“Oh, we’re staying busy. I just explained your rom-com plan and gave him the 10 Things I Hate About You one-sentence synopsis.”

“Which was?”