And that doesn’t give him carte blanche to treat me like garbage. Not after all the years we’ve been friends. Not after all the highs and lows we’ve been through together.
“You know why he’s spiraling, don’t you?” she asks.
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t excuse anything.”
My phone vibrates again, and both of us just stare at each other as it rumbles against the inside of my drawer.
“You’re really not going to answer that?” she asks.
“Not yet.” I will…when I actually know what to say and how to say it. You can’t just end a decade-long friendship over the phone, but I’m also not sure I’m strong enough to say what needs to be said to his face.
Tessa leans forward, her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I let out a sigh. “I think it’s what I need. I can’t wait for him anymore.”
She gets a look on her face like there’s more she wants to say, but then shakes her head slightly and smiles. “Does that mean I can finally set you up with Mike’s brother? He saw a picture of you once and still asks about you.”
I arch my brow. “Really? You waited all of two seconds before suggesting a blind date?”
She sits back in her chair, a cheeky smile on her face. “It’s not really a blind date. You’ve both seen pictures of the other, and it could be good for you to go on a date where you’re actually ready to give the guy a chance.”
I nibble my lip, unsure, until my phone buzzes again in my drawer. God, how many times is he going to call me before he quits and waits until I’m ready to come to him?
Thinking about him and why I’m mad this time only brings to mind the images of him and Jen Summers that have lived rent free in my head since the news broke. That’s the push I need to square my shoulders with firm resolution.
“Let’s do it.”
Tessa’s eyebrows shoot up. “For real?”
“Yep,” I say, my voice strong and sure, even as my heart beats frantically in my chest and my stomach twists with nerves. I haven’t been on a date in over a year, and that was a disaster. In fact, most of my dates have been duds, and the few relationships I’ve had—if you can even call them that—barely lasted a month or two before they ended. Sometimes it was because of me calling it off, and sometimes it was because they couldn’t handle Dom’s position in my life. Either way, they ended and I was never all that heartbroken about it.
But if I’m going to really move on, that means putting myself out there. It’s clear that Dom will never see me as anything more than a friend, so it’s time to let go of the idea of us once and for all.
Four
The elevator dings as I arrive on Laney’s floor, and my steps pound the otherwise quiet hall leading toward her apartment. My back teeth grind in frustration because she’s still not answering my calls or texts, which isn’t like her. She’s frozen me out before, but never like this. The silent treatment isn’t her style, which is why it bothers me so much that she’s pulling this shit now.
We’ve always been straight with each other, so why won’t she just yell at me and we can move on?
I knock on her door with one hand while her favorite coffee—the one she only lets herself have on special occasions—is in a to-go cup in my other. She opens the door and leans against it while her shoulders sag and she lets out a heavy breath. I can’t tell if it’s exasperation with me or resignation, but something about the latter bothers me more.
“You couldn’t wait for me to call you back when I was ready?”
I love that she cuts right to the chase. It’s one of my favorite traits of hers. “It couldn’t wait. I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes search mine, and there’s something in them that makes my gut clench. It’s not a look she’s ever given me before, and I thought I knew all her looks. Before I can analyze it too much, she sighs again and steps back, opening the door wider so I can step inside.
Her apartment is bright and airy with large windows that let in natural light and give a decent view. She’s got splashes of color around the room that make it feel vibrant without it being too eclectic. A large white shag carpet is spread out in front of her couch, and I automatically slip out of my shoes so I don’t get it dirty. It also feels plush underneath my feet, and there’s something incredibly relaxing about it. I take a seat on the couch and lean back, my chest expanding with the first real breath I’ve taken all day.
Fuck, it feels good to be in her space. It’s always soothing to be here, and I wish I could figure out what exactly she does to make her place feel so calming so I could replicate it at my house.
“So, what was so important it couldn’t wait a few days?”
I turn my head to take her in. She’s standing with her arms crossed, leaning her back against the edge of her kitchen island.
“Come sit down and I’ll tell you.”
“I’d rather not.”