“Out!” Coach Mackie pounded his fists on the table.
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
Oh, actually I guess he did. But I was more than willing to go, because Belle was probably waiting for me with those diamond-cutter nipples of hers all perked up and excited.
It really was cute how much she liked me.
15
Belle
I wasn’t sure if Chris was serious about coming to my apartment, but I also didn’t want to look like an idiot if he’d been joking. That meant I didn’t send him a text warning him I was heading out instead of staying to look up venues like I’d planned.
Lance had flown to New York, and he wanted to meet me at a coffee shop near my place.
I’d be lying if I said there weren’t massive flocks of butterflies in my stomach at the prospect. Except now I wasn’t sure how I actually felt. I’d always had a crush on Lance growing up. Planning his wedding had been devastating, too. But little by little, I’d let him go along the way. The irony was that I’d just about moved on when all hell broke loose and I got accused of trying to steal him and sabotage the wedding.
Now I was dreaming about someone else every night. I had Chris Rose and his stupid pickle on my mind.
I tortured myself trying to imagine how the conversation with Lance was going to go. Had he brought Shelby? Was she going to lay into me again? Were they going to drag me out back and mug me?
I really had no idea, but I needed closure enough that I risked showing up.
Lance was wearing a navy-blue sweater and with a checkered dress shirt under it. He had thick, dark hair that he kept pushed away from his forehead and glasses that always made me think he looked a little like Superman in disguise.
Lance was that guy. The one who had everything going for him. I’d grown up in his shadow—the girl he always wanted around, but never really saw. I might as well have been a guy as far as he’d been concerned.
He smiled when he saw me, which was a relief. I ruled out a few of my more violent theories about how this was going to go.
I sat down at the little table in the corner with him. “Hi,” I said. “If you’re here to murder me, can you please just make it quick and painless?”
“I’m here to apologize.”
“Oh.” In all the endless things I’d imagined this could be, I hadn’t even considered that one.
“I eventually got the truth out of Shelby. She felt threatened by you. She made everything up to chase you off.”
“That’s… Yeah. I mean, you knew she was making up at least some of it. She told everyone at the reception that I’d been coming onto you for weeks. You just sat there and let everyone believe it.”
Lance hung his head, nodding. “I know. I’m not going to make excuses for myself. That was beyond shitty. And I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
I gave him a small little smile. Oddly enough, hearing him apologize only made me feel mad on my own behalf for the first time. Until now, I’d just been hurt. It was like the friend I knew was dead before. Because the Lance I knew wouldn’t have let someone make up those things about me. He would’ve stood up for me. Now I was seeing the Lance I knew, and I just felt pissed about what he’d done.
“And I was thinking about everything Shelby said. About how she always knew you had feelings for me. Belle… I’ve had feelings too. I just worried it would screw up our friendship to admit it. But now I’ve already screwed things so badly that I might as well come clean, right?”
“You’re married,” I said. My heart was pounding, but not for the reasons I would’ve thought. All I could think was, No, no, Lance. You idiot. Why now? Why did you have to do this now?
“No. I got a lawyer and filed for divorce the day she told me.” He held up his phone screen and showed me about twenty missed calls from Shelby, several voicemails, and a pile of unread texts. “She is a little upset about it. But I don’t care anymore. We can finally try this thing. The right way.”
He reached for my hand, then hesitated when he saw the big, fat engagement ring Chris had given me.
He stared at it like my hand had just grown a ball sack. “What is that?”
“Lance…” I scooted my chair back. “I’m sorry for whatever part I played in this. But,” I shook my head. “It’s too late. I moved on. We could work on being friends again, but I’m not going to lie. It’s going to take some time.”
Lance’s calm, nice guy vibe cracked. “Moved on? No shit. What has it been, two weeks? And you’re engaged? What the fuck, Belle?”
I got up, shouldering my bag and taking a step from the table. “I should really go.”
Lance got up and followed me as I tried to leave. He put his hand on my arm, stopping me. “Belle,” he said quietly. “Sorry. I didn’t expect the ring. But if this is about me somehow, let’s talk before you do something crazy. Give me a chance.”
I tried to pull back, but he leaned closer. Just before he could actually kiss me, I saw something from the corner of my eye. A man outside the shop with a professional camera was snapping pictures. Ever since Chris’ little stunt in the restaurant, I’d noticed people snapping pictures of me when I went out. I guess they all wanted the shot of me looking half-dead with no makeup as I left a coffee shop in the morning.
I let out a groan, then pushed Lance away. “I need to go.”
I left him standing there and rushed out of the shop. The man with the camera kept snapping pictures. “Make sure you get this one,” I said, holding up both my middle fingers in front of his camera.”
I had a feeling Lance and his horrible timing had just caused Chris and I a pile of trouble.
16
Chris
I waited on Belle’s couch. Part of me wondered if it was wrong to pick the lock on her door and let myself in again when she wasn’t home. Then I decided she hadn’t explicitly told me not to wait on the couch for her.
I mean, she knew I could pick her lock. If she didn’t want me to let myself in, all she would’ve had to do was say so. Besides, it was my duty as her soon-to-be fake husband to check the house and make sure she was okay.
I’d also done a quick count of her pickles before I settled on the couch. As I suspected, one was missing. Curious. Either she got hungry. Or she got hungry. I made a note to ask her about it whenever she showed up.
I’d been waiting about a half an hour when I heard someone try the doorknob. There was a jiggle, then a curse. It sounded like Belle, and when I got up, I noticed a set of keys sitting by the door.
Oh, this was too perfect. She locked herself out.
I went to the door, checking the peep hole. There she was, tiny and warped so the top of her head was bulging up toward me. “What do you want?” I growled against the door.
Belle jumped back, dropping her bag. She squinted at the door. “Chris?”
“Wait there,” I said.
I jogged to her speaker and turned on her eighties playlist. “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” picked up right where it had left off from earlier that evening. I danced my way to the door, then unlocked it.