“Yeah, no. I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe. I don’t want to see him.”
She’s doubtful. “Don’t want to see him, or aren’t ready to see him?”
“Is there a difference?”
Sophia is right—I do want to see him, but I’m just not ready. The stinging still hurts, my heart and my soul and my pride still hurt. I thought I was strong enough that a thing like this wouldn’t affect me this way, but it does.
Because I love that jackass.
“Of course there’s a difference, but I get it if you don’t want to see him. Shit, if you want, I can break into his place and kill all his plants.”
My chin goes up a notch. “He only has one plant.” Not that I would let her kill it, or break into his place.
I don’t hate the poor guy.
I’m lonely and I ache for him; plotting revenge might take a bit of the edge off temporarily, but I’d still be crying myself to sleep tonight.
“Babe, you okay over there?” Sophia softly asks, reaching over and placing her hand on mine. Giving me a pat with a hand that’s very cold because it’s been wrapped around the ice cream container for so long.
“Yes.” Sort of.
“Okay, so hypothetically, what if…Brooks knocked on your door and begged your forgiveness—what would you do?”
“Nothing. He doesn’t have to apologize for anything. It’s not a crime to sleep with someone and not want to be in a relationship. It’s called casual dating. Fuck buddies. Friends with benefits.” Potato, potahto, it’s all the same thing.
“Brooks Bennett is not your fuck buddy. You’re actual buddies who just so happened to sleep together and then the bastard left you hanging.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better.”
I close my eyes, trying to remember what he said to me in the hallway, trying to remember the way he watched me and the expression on his face after I told him to go live his best life.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
I laughed at him. “We’re not dating, remember? You went down on me once, slept with me once, and now I doubt you were even going to let me spend the night. Probably some rule about that.” I threw everything he’d told me back in his face.
“Abbott, I can’t be in a relationship, but I also don’t…” He paused, struggling to find words. “I don’t want…this.”
Can’t be in a relationship.
Can’t be in a relationship?
Why?
What hold do his friends have on him? Is he in the mob? Does he owe someone money? Is he on the lam and bad guys are out to get him?
“I don’t want…this.”
This.
I sit in silence, listening to the sound of my best friend licking ice cream off a spoon then digging into the bowl for more, Desi mewing beside her, begging for a bit of a treat. Sophia pats my cat on the head, fluffs her hair, but doesn’t give in to the pouting kitty.
Hard-ass. She and Desi have a love-hate-love relationship, much like everyone else has with my temperamental cat.
“I don’t want…this.”
He might not want things this way, but this is what he’s getting. I might have been okay with being in the friend-zone at the beginning, but I’m not okay with it now.
Line drawn.
I will not be crossing it.
And I’ll do that by staying on my side of the hallway. I just need him to stay on his.
“Has the bastard tried to call you?”
I haven’t told Sophia that not only has Brooks tried to call, he’s texted and knocked on my door in an effort to contact me. Just yesterday, I sat on the floor in my little entryway, back against the door as he knocked and knocked and knocked.
I could hear Brooks standing on the other side for fourteen minutes, fourteen long, excruciating minutes before he gave up and went back to his place. Fourteen minutes before I could open my door and steal to the elevator in an effort to run errands.
“Don’t call him that,” I snap, lost in thought.
“Sorry.” She pats me on the hand again, Desdemona now curled in her lap, purring like a motor. “I love you. I hate seeing you hurt.”
“I know.” I love her, too, and I’ve never been afraid to tell anyone how I felt about them until Brooks rejected my sentiments.
“I think we would make a great couple…”
Far from a declaration, perhaps, but still packed with meaning, and it took a lot of courage for me to say.
Why did I say that to him? WHY? Guh, I’m such an idiot.
I mull this over, over and over again, tormenting myself by reliving each moment on a loop.
Then.
There’s a loud knock at the door I wasn’t expecting, and I start.
Sophia pauses, spoon mid-lick on her tongue. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No, but you know Nan pops in from time to time.”
Sophia reaches for her phone and checks the time. “I’ll get that in case it’s a murderer. You’ve already had a shitty week—we don’t need anything else traumatic on your plate.” She giggles at herself all the way to the door, yanking it open before I can protest. Instead of calling out my objection, I bury my head beneath the blanket, dread pooling in the depth of my belly.
“Oh.” A brief silence. “Ohhh.” Another pause. “I-I really don’t know if she will…I’ll have to ask. Give me a second—I’ll be right back.”
The door clicks closed and I crane my neck to watch as she walks back into the living room then begins pacing.
“What are you doing?” I frown. “Who was that?”
“Uh. That…” She points to the entryway. “Was Brooks.”
Brooks? I rise, wipe my palms on my pajama bottoms. “What do I do?”
Shit, what do I do! I’m not ready to see him, especially like this.
“No.” I’m shaking my head a bit too aggressively. “I don’t want to see him.”
“Abbott, you have to—you can’t avoid him forever. Plus, he’s really cute.”
“Sophia! Like that matters.” She is so ridiculous.
“Right, but he’s not at all how I was picturing him!”
“Give me a break—you’ve been googling him for weeks, and don’t lie and say you haven’t.”
“Fine, I was—but he’s way better in person.”
“Please go tell him to leave.”
“No.”
“Sophia!” She can’t hold me hostage in my own apartment.
“Rip it off like a Band-Aid. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can get on with your life.”
“I am getting on with my life.”
“You’re hiding.”
So? So! I’m entitled to show a little fear and act like a coward every now and again—I’m human, dammit, and I get scared like everyone else.
But.
She is right.
I care about Brooks, and there will come a point where I will have to face the music.
Sophia walks over and puts her hands on my shoulders. “If you want me to stay, I will.”
My head shakes. “It’ll be fine. And…we can’t leave him out in the hallway forever.”