Dealbreakers by Lauren Forsythe

Author:Lauren Forsythe [Forsythe, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Frankly, having sex with Lucas was now the only thing I thought about.

Damn him.

This was not the plan. The plan was to find a nice, marrying type who liked watching The Walking Dead and wanted to make babies pronto. No tattoos, no swearing, no shagging about, no . . . no Lucas bloody Kennedy.

“You seem . . .” Meera started, and I jumped.

“What?”

We were eating lunch at La Cantina, a tiny Spanish restaurant we used to frequent as teenagers because it was cheap and delicious and they never really checked that we were eighteen when we tried our luck ordering sangria.

No matter what, we did this once a month. La Cantina was down the road from Meera’s house, so she’d only have to leave Arti for an hour or so, and I usually dropped in on my parents. Though, for some reason at the moment, I just really didn’t want to. Maybe it was sensing Dad’s frustrations, or Mum’s desire to harvest my eggs, but I couldn’t face it.

I sounded guilty, and Meera knew me better than anyone.

“Happy.” She frowned, stuffing some tortilla in her mouth and chewing. “I was gonna say happy. Glowy, even.”

“Oh.” I gulped down some water. “New skincare regimen is working, then.”

“I don’t think it’s that.” Meera looked at me, raised a perfect eyebrow, and tapped her nose ring. “Whatcha hiding, Marina?”

“I don’t think we should talk about it,” I said lightly, and reached across for the meatballs.

She winced. “You fell in love with the copywriter.”

I blinked. “Jesus, Meera. No. Nothing beyond verbal sparring. Which is totally innocent. I just . . . it’s fun. I don’t have to think.”

“You do think too much,” Meera agreed, and then reached across the table to take my hand. “I’m sorry I was mean at the pottery class. If you want to fall in love, you go ahead. I just . . . I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Bec said I’m too clever to get hurt again.”

“Your brain never has much to do with it.” Meera laughed, leaning back in her chair. “If it did, would you have chosen someone at fifteen who was a second-rate bass guitarist, had no vision, no goals, no nothing? Someone who never argued with you. Look at you, you love to clash. To fight your corner. To debate! Adam was . . .”

I held up a hand. “Adam was a fifteen-year-old who fell in love with another fifteen-year-old, and now we’re here.”

“No,” Meera corrected, “Adam was a selfish narcissist who only ever cared about you making him the center of your world. And his jokes were crap.”

“Then why were you friends with him?”

“Because he was fine if you weren’t dating him! I’ve got loads of knobhead friends, present company excluded. I take people as they are. But not when they break my best friend’s heart. You deserve to be a mum, Rina, you do. You’ll be amazing at it. I want you to have someone who wants that, too.

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