I scoff, shaking my head. “Get this—she thinks it will be easy. Her plan is to feign innocence and ignore me.”
He cocks his head. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Yes, but there is no way that’s going to happen.” My voice is rising again.
I’ve raised my voice more since meeting her than I have in the last month. When I need to go on the warpath at work, I’m more of a calm, deadly type. I save yelling for extreme circumstances where I am demanding complete do not fuck with me attention.
“Why not? There will be plenty of people there. Other than a cursory hello, you could easily ignore her for the entire day.”
I blink at him, trying to understand how he doesn’t understand, and then I remember he hasn’t met her. “You don’t get it. She’s one of those women who can’t help causing chaos wherever she goes. It’s, like, in her DNA.”
A smile twitches at Mitch’s lips. “Or has she thrown you so much, you’re hyperaware of her?”
“What? No. When have you ever known me to be dramatic?” My temples pound. I down the rest of my coffee and refill the cup to the brim. “You’ll see.”
He pushes his cup forward for a top-off. “What do you think she’s going to do?”
“I have no idea. That’s the problem.”
“Or maybe the problem is you don’t think you can resist her.”
I shake my head. “This isn’t about sex.”
He laughs. “I cannot wait to meet this woman.”
“Why did I call you? The one time I decide to talk and you’ve been nothing but an aggravation.”
He leans back in the chair and studies me. “Do you want my advice?”
“Yes.”
He unwraps the sandwich, takes a bite, and chews while I sit here and attempt to get control over my irritation.
Why did I think this was a good idea?
Finally, he swallows. “Tell him.”
I can only stare at him. “What the fuck kind of advice is that?”
“Out of the shitty options in front of you, that’s the best one.”
“How is that the best one?”
“Because there’s no way he isn’t going to find out.”
“No. Once I have it under control and get used to her, it won’t be a big deal.”
“I think you should tell him. You didn’t do it on purpose. You’re a consenting adult. She’s a consenting adult. You and Ryder have a strong friendship—if you set the record straight, he won’t hold it against you. Promise you won’t touch her again, and it will be done. It’s the simplest and cleanest option.”
Shit. He’s right. That’s exactly what I should do.
And then it hits me.
The other truth I’ve been avoiding.
My gaze slides over Mitch’s shoulder to the window that looks out onto my backyard, past the trees, to the river beyond. My knee starts bouncing under the table.
If I get it out of my head, it will lose power. “I don’t know if I can make that promise.”