Go ahead, I dare you.
Instant block. I mean, I should have done that years ago. But Eric’s insanity isn’t what’s really been on my mind.
I’m thinking more about him.
And yes, there’ve been a couple of calls.
From David.
And also yes, I’ve been ignoring those too.
Because I can’t.
I literally cannot stop thinking about the last time I saw him.
That look in his eyes.
That completely over-the-top, possessive, alpha-male energy.
You know the kind.
The who the hell does this man think he is and why is it working on me kind.
That unhinged, protective, what-the-actual-hell-was-that moment when he stepped between me and Eric like he’d already decided something.
About me.
About us.
Which is ridiculous. Absolutely, completely, one hundred percent ridiculous.
He couldn’t have meant it.
I know that.
The logical, spreadsheet-loving, color-coded section of my brain is very clear on this.
He got caught up in the moment.
Adrenaline.
Testosterone.
Hero complex.
Whatever.
That kiss?
Not real.
A fluke.
A chemically enhanced lapse in judgment.
On his part.
Because let’s be honest here—he doesn’t feel that way about you, Larry.