“How do you know my professor wasn’t a woman?”

Surprise flickered across his face, and if I wasn’t wrong, disappointment. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have presumed.”

“I’m teasing.” I drank the last of my cider and smirked at him. “He was a guy.”

Giving me a mock scowl, Roane stood up. “I’ll get us another round.”

When he returned, the pub was quiet enough that Milly and Dexter joined us. They sat at the table beside us, and I turned my chair so my back wasn’t to them; however, this situated me closer to Roane. My hyperawareness went into overdrive. The first time his arm brushed mine, I swear my heart leapt into my throat.

Before I knew it, I’d consumed another cider and was on my fourth. I was feeling a little drunk and a lot loose-tongued when the conversation turned more personal.

Milly asked what had brought me to Alnster, and I ended up telling them about the wreck of my life, how much of a failure I was, about Aaron being the end of a long list of bad online dating experiences, my lack of a job, and my friends all moving on with their lives. The only thing I, thankfully, kept to myself was my mom.

“So now I’m here, putting a little distance between me and Chicago, and trying to figure out what I want.” I couldn’t look at Roane as I added, “And that means no men for a while.”

“Why swear off men entirely?” Dexter’s gaze flickered to Roane and back to me. “Surely after all the dating you’ve done, you know what it is you want and what you don’t want?”

“Oh, I know what I emphatically don’t want.” I raised my bottle of cider to punctuate this point.

“That being?”

I turned to Roane. He sat forward, his arms crossed in front of him, his head bent toward mine, his dark gaze focused entirely on me. For a moment he discombobulated me. Then I shook myself. “No younger men and no guys with money.”

He frowned. “Isn’t that a little judgmental?”

I winced and dragged my gaze from his to Milly, thinking a woman might understand my reasoning better as I explained, “I’ve dated two younger men—”

“How old are you?” Milly interrupted.

“Thirty-three.”

Her face was expressionless as she nodded.

“As I was saying, I’ve dated two younger men—well, I’ve dated one and then there was Aaron, who was twenty-eight, but he doesn’t count as a boyfriend. Although, it weirdly felt like we were dating. I don’t know. Anyway, they both proved to be emotionally immature and a waste of my energy. It just makes sense to me I don’t go down that road again.

“As for my rule against dating men with money, well, I’ve had that one since college. Chace. Chace Miller. My high school sweetheart. He grew up on the West Side and I grew up on the East. I didn’t have money. He did. We met at the movies when I was fifteen, got into Northwestern together, and we dated until sophomore year of college.” I looked down at Shadow, suddenly unable to meet anybody’s eyes. “I knew deep down he’d never treated me well. But it wasn’t until my best friend Greer started to hound me about his behavior, I realized I had to break it off. He always made these comments, little offhand comments that he tried to sell as jokes, that I was lucky to be dating him. And he’d condescend to me about things, especially about cars and clothes and anything materialistic, mansplaining these things because I hadn’t grown up with money like he had.

“And I realized Greer was right. I’d been so grateful to him for choosing me, and he made me feel ashamed of where I came from. Inferior. There was no balance between us.” Finally, I looked up and saw Milly staring at me in sympathy. “Years of this subtle negativity had a big effect. He fucked with my self-esteem and it took a long time for me to fix what he broke.”

“He sounds like a prick,” Roane said. “You shouldn’t shut yourself off from different people because of one bad example.”

I smiled at him. “You’re probably right but I’d rather not take the chance, Farmer Robson.”

For a moment we just looked at each other, his lips pressed together as if I’d displeased him. The desire to lean over and kiss those gorgeous lips was so strong, I reared back to stop myself.

Roane’s eyebrows drew together.

“I’ll get us another round,” Dexter said. “Give us a hand, Roane.”

The men left and my cheeks burned as I realized I’d just spread most of my life story out before these strangers. I glanced sheepishly at Milly. “I don’t think I should have another.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, lass,” she offered kindly. “By the time your holiday is over, you’ll know all of our entire life stories. That’s just the way it is in Alnster.”