“About what?”
“Your feelings for me. Do you think you could be the man in my dream one day in the distant future? Do you at least feel yourself falling for me enough to take the risk of telling our families about us now?”
I press my lips together. Shit.
“Because if you’re sure, sitting here now, you could never want our families to know about us, then we should end this arrangement now.” When I stare at her, speechless, she takes a deep breath and says, “The truth is I already know I’m in love with you, Colin. Madly in love. And now that I’m sure of that, every second I pretend not to be, every second I pretend doing something casual with you is enough for me, it’s beginning to feel more painful than fun. It’s beginning to feel like rejection.”
My heart squeezes at the forlorn look on Amy’s beautiful face. “We’ve only been doing this for less than a week,” I manage to whisper.
Amy’s eyes flash. “You’ve been doing this for less than a week. My heart has belonged to you for a lot longer than that.”
My heart is racing. “Amy, please. This is too much, too fast.”
Amy scoffs. “Do you think I want to feel that way about you, Colin? Of course, I don’t! I know I’m a creeper for loving the same boy my whole life! Who does that? I’m gross. Blechh! Ew! But I can’t help what I feel! I’m Jacob the Werewolf when he sees Baby Renesmee!”
“What?”
“Never mind. The point is that I know I’m a werewolf freak-a-doodle, but I can’t help it. The bottom line is I need more—and deserve more—than a no-strings fuck buddy arrangement you don’t tell my brother about.”
“You’re not my fuck buddy. Don’t insult me.”
“Yes, I am! You lied to Logan and Kennedy about us! If fucking me and hiding it from the people we’re closest to doesn’t make me a fuck buddy, then I don’t know what would.”
“You know why we’re not telling our families about us! You said you agreed!”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
I exhale in frustration. “I tell you, constantly, how much I care about you, Amy! Maybe not with words, but with the things I do for you.”
Unexpected anger explodes across her face. “You explicitly told me you were doing those nice things for me because I’m Logan’s sister! You said if the situation were reversed, Logan would do the same for you! So, forgive me, if I don’t interpret your favors to my brother as evidence of how much you care about me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me. But in the context of this conversation, in the context of me expressing the brutal truth about my feelings for you, I call bullshit!”
With that, Amy darts out of my car and marches into my house. So, of course, I follow her, feeling like my heart is palpitating at an irregular clip in my chest.
“Amy!” I call after her.
She whirls around to face me in the middle of my living room, her green eyes on fire.
“You want to hear my ‘brutal truth’?” I ask, my pulse pounding loudly in my ears.
“That’s all I want.”
I take a step forward, my chest heaving. “You only think you’re in love with me, when in reality, you’re ‘in love’ with a fantasy—a perfect version of me that doesn’t even exist!”
Amy snorts. “You think I think you’re perfect?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Ha! News flash, babe, I lived next-door to you for fourteen years! And during that time, I saw plenty of times when you were anything but perfect. I saw you being impatient or downright rude to your mother and sisters! I saw you being moody and entitled at times, too. I saw more than one girlfriend leaving your house in tears because you’d lost your temper—which I could hear you doing, by the way—and you didn’t say sorry when you should have!”
My jaw hangs open. Well, this took a turn.
“How dare you accuse me of only being in love with a ‘fantasy version’ of you, when that’s the only version of yourself you’ve ever been willing to show me!” Amy takes a step toward me, breathing hard. “Answer a question for me—something I’ve been wondering for years.” Her nostrils flare. “You knew I used to spy on you from my bedroom window every night while you practiced your drums, didn’t you? You knew I was there, watching you!”
Holy shit.
“Answer me!” she shrieks. “And tell me the fucking truth!”
I can’t deny it, so I nod slowly.
“You knew it!” she screams. “Ha! You knew I was there, all along—watching you, slobbering over you, fantasizing about you—and you fucking loved it. I bet it stroked your ego like crazy to feel like a rockstar with a fangirling audience every night! It made you feel like you were king of the world to know there was a dopey tweener next door idolizing you!” She shakes her head, her lip curling. “You performed for me because it made you feel good to have me worship you, and now you have the audacity to tell me I can’t possibly love you because you were too successful at manipulating me?” She scoffs and takes another step forward. “Well, let me enlighten you about something, Colin.” She leans forward. “I’m not an idiot. Maybe I was back then, but not anymore. Looking back now, I know exactly what you were doing and why—and that what you were doing was actually kind of douchey. Definitely not the actions of a perfect man.”
I open and close my mouth, too shocked to speak.
“And what about when I moved away?” she says. “You think I thought you were perfect then, when you didn’t even think to keep in touch with me? When it didn’t even cross your mind to check in on me, after my parents got divorced, and Logan went to college, and I had to go to a new house and new school and make all new friends? You knew how shy I was around new people and that I used to talk to you when I didn’t feel like I had anyone else who gave a shit! But I guess out of sight, out of mind. I moved away and ceased to exist, as far as Mr. Budding Rockstar was concerned?”
My breathing is shallow. Holy shit. She’s right. I was a total prick.
“I’m sorry,” I eke out. “My band was starting to get lots of gigs by that point and—"
“Yes, I know. And I also know you were far more important to me, than I was to you. To you, I was nothing but Logan’s kid sister. But, still, it hurt. So, don’t you dare tell me I’m standing here thinking you’re perfect! That’s truly laughable!”
“You were much more to me than Logan’s kid sister,” I concede. “You’re right. We were friends, and I was a self-absorbed little shit to drop you like a hot potato.”
Amy processes that. “Thank you. I accept your apology. To be fair, I was fourteen and you were eighteen and in a band. Frankly, it would have been weird for you to stay in touch with me. I’m just telling you, whether it was rational or not, I felt abandoned by you—and therefore knew you weren’t even close to perfect. But if I stupidly thought you were perfect then, I certainly would have figured out the truth at Logan’s wedding.”
“What? I was Prince Charming at that wedding!”