Chapter 6

??And a damn good one. Someone you can??t compete with.?? He lifts the drink and vanishes into the crowd.

Thank God.

What an asshole, for many reasons.

* * * *

I see him across the room, Corbin Trundle, the twenty-nine-year-old ex-boyfriend/boxer that was taken away from me. He looks good as a bottled-blond in a too-tight, unbuttoned, burgundy silk dress shirt. Lucky Brand jeans look glued to his muscular legs. And the black eye from his job puts him into the sexy and rough category of the many guests at the party. As always, Trundle keeps his hair buzzed, and he sports diamond studs in his earlobes that reflect in the room??s dim light. He talks to a younger man while they both drink beer from longneck bottles.