Home > Love Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps #2)(45)

Love Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps #2)(45)
Author: Teagan Hunter

Nothing with us has ever made much sense.

“Wow. You should see the fucking grin on your face right now,” Dean taunts. “I’ve seen that look before.”

“What look?”

“Love.”

“What?”

“L-O-V-E.” He nods, grinning. “Oh, yeah. You’re totally in love with her.”

I shake my head, ready to argue. “I’m—”

Totally, completely, abso-fucking-lutely in love with her.

“Oh fuck.”

He laughs. “Just now realizing it?” I nod. “Yep, been there. Sneaks up on you, huh?”

I’m not some hopeless romantic who wishes on the clock when it’s 11:11 or whatever, but I’m not a cynic either.

I figured I’d fall in love one day. I guess I just never thought it would be with Caroline.

But now that it’s right here in front of me, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

I’m in love with her…and I think I always have been.

I blow out a breath. “What the hell am I going to do?”

“What do you mean? You tell her.”

“What?” I balk. “I can’t tell her that.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s…Caroline.”

“And?”

“She’s my best friend.”

Another laugh. “It’s a little late for the just friends bit, huh?”

“No. I mean, it’s obvious we’re more than just friends, but…shit. It’s one thing to sleep with someone and have feelings for them. It’s another thing entirely to sleep with them and fall hopelessly in love.”

What if she doesn’t feel the same?

What if, especially after what I did, she thinks we made a mistake?

What if she can’t forgive me?

“Listen, man, I’ve seen you and Caroline together for a while now, right? Well, not to get all mushy and shit, but I can’t ever imagine stumbling upon two people who are better suited for one another. And that includes me and River, mostly because we’re a horrible idea together.” A lovesick grin stretches his lips because he knows that’s not true. “You have nothing to lose telling her you love her.”

Except her.

I can’t lose her, and I don’t just mean because we’re dating.

I’d be losing my best friend too.

That scares me more than her telling me she doesn’t feel the same way.

I have to tell her.

“How’d you tell River?” I ask.

He twists his lips up. “Trust me, you don’t want advice from me on how I told her. We weren’t even on speaking terms and I just blurted it out when she was mad at me—again—for playing my music too loud.”

I laugh. “You do kind of have shit taste in music.”

He glowers at me. “I’ll let that slide, but only because you’re having an existential crisis right now.” He pushes his empty pie plate away. “Well, I need to get going. Guess I have to go teach little heathens some English.”

“Good luck with that.”

He stands, tossing a couple bucks onto the table for Darlene. “I’ll leave you with this thought: I almost lost River once, and it fucking sucked. I get what you’re going through. Just…make her listen.”

 

 

18

 

 

Caroline

 

 

Six.

That’s the number of days it’s been since I’ve spoken to Cooper.

The number of days it’s been since I’ve touched him. Kissed him.

And the number of days I’ve been nursing a broken heart.

There’s so much I want to say to him, but I’m still angry. Still hurt. The last thing I want to do is say something I’ll later regret.

It’s been difficult being in the same apartment as him, treading carefully around him and his stares.

Because if he thinks I don’t know he’s looking at me, he’s wrong.

I can feel his eyes on me, like he’s caressing me with his hands. Reaching right into my soul.

There have been moments I’ve wanted to knock on his door and tell him what an ass he is just as many times as I’ve wanted to tell him I love him.

But I don’t.

All those feelings of anger and fear bubble back up and I back away.

The worst part? Over a month ago, he would have been the first person I’d run to talk to.

Not anymore.

“Hey.”

River pulls me from my thoughts as she slides up to the checkout counter I’ve been sitting behind all day. With my sketchpad laid out in front of me and a pencil in my hand, I’m still technically working. Not moving much, but working.

I lift my head. “Hey.”

“God, you look awful. You want to day-drink in the back office and talk shit about boys? I’m sure Dean’s done something dumb this week I can bitch about for a while.”

I bark out a laugh, not surprised. “You have booze back there?”

“Are you kidding me? Do you know how many late nights I’ve had here? Of course I have booze stashed.” She winks. “So, what do you say? Couple drinks to drown your sorrows?”

“Thanks,” I tell her. “But I’m okay.”

She frowns, something she’s been doing a lot lately.

I came clean about what Cooper did at the festival on Tuesday when River again hinted at putting up a display in the store. She felt awful for putting me on the spot, not knowing Cooper went behind my back and lied to me about staying out of it. I keep telling her it’s fine and not her fault, but I know she still feels guilty for unknowingly being a part of it.

“Still haven’t talked to him?” she asks.

It’s my turn to frown. “No.”

“Are you going to?”

“Eventually. I’m just still so…”

“Hurt?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Would you be this upset with him if you were still just friends?”

“Absolutely. The Cooper I’ve known for ten years never would have done what he did. Sure, he’s always been bossy and a little pushy when it comes to breaking me out of my shell or whatever you want to call it, but he’s never blatantly lied to me and gone behind my back. He’s never made me feel betrayed before.” I sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being dramatic about all of this. Maybe Cooper was right to do what he did.”

“Um, no. You’re not being dramatic,” she insists. “I mean, it does probably hurt a little more now because you’re in love with him, but that was your decision to sort through and you were clear about what you wanted. So, good intentions or not, he should have respected that, and he didn’t. That’s not okay. It’s deceitful and you have every right to be pissed about it. I know I’d be big mad myself if Dean tried to pull some shit like that. I’d castrate him.”

A grin pulls at my lips.

Poor Dean.

“I get where you’re coming from. This place”—she waves her hand around the boutique—“is my passion. Designing is yours. You don’t fuck with someone’s passion.”

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