Let's Be Just Friends

by Camilla Isley

  “Baby,” Georgiana said to Tyler, linking arms with him. “Do you want to stay over at my place tonight?”

  “Actually, I came here with Rose,” Tyler said. “I should probably drive her home.”

  “Oh, I can do that,” Ethan offered, stepping forward.

  “I think it’s better if I drive her home,” Tyler said.

  His possessive attitude irritated Georgiana. The day they left for France couldn’t come fast enough.

  “I’m sure Ethan is a proficient enough driver to see me home safely,” Rose said, putting an end to the discussion. Her cold stare dared Tyler to add something.

  Mmm. Well, well, well, look at that. Just when Georgiana thought her fun was spoiled, her moment of triumph had finally arrived. Rose was angry—very angry. Tyler hadn’t told her about Paris after all. Georgiana made an evil laugh inside her head. Muahahah, mission accomplished.

  “It’s all set, then,” Georgiana chirped, moving toward Tyler’s car.

  It was annoying for her brother to pay attention to Rose tonight since he didn’t have to anymore. Not to say mortifying for the way he’d ignored her sorority little sister, Alice. From what Alice had told her, she and her brother were in a committed relationship. So why flirt with another girl all night and offer to take her home? Especially now that Georgiana didn’t need him involved with Rose. Anyway, if her brother wanted to toy with Rose, whatever. The more water under the bridge of Rose and Tyler, the better. But poor Alice.

  “I’m this way,” Ethan said, steering Rose away with a hand on the small of her back.

  Georgiana pulled Tyler toward his car and tried to ignore the fact that her boyfriend appeared jealous of her brother.

  Twelve

  Rose

  Ethan drove a black Mercedes SL—a sports car that fitted his character like a glove. Rose was glad it was him driving her home tonight. The thought of being stuck in a confined space with Tyler was unbearable just now. She didn’t even care that he was staying over at Georgiana’s. She was too angry for that.

  They didn’t speak much on the way to Tyler’s house, except for Rose offering the occasional direction. All the playfulness of the night had evaporated, and with too much on her mind to make small talk, Rose kept quiet. Ethan didn’t seem to mind the silence, though.

  When they pulled up in front of Tyler’s building, Ethan was jumping out of the car before Rose even had a chance to thank him for driving her home. He circled it to reach her side and opened the car door for her. A tiny smile escaped her lips; this guy was full of surprises.

  “How gentlemanly of you,” she said, taking his outstretched hand.

  “I’m no gentlemen,” he said, his eyes suddenly dark in the cold night. “I only wanted to do this.”

  Ethan pulled her up and out of the car toward him. Moving his free hand to the small of her back and forcing their bodies closer together, he kissed her.

  At first, she turned rigid in his arms. Rose hadn’t expected the kiss, but after the initial surprise, she found herself responding. Her body took control, and she pressed herself against him. As suddenly as she’d let herself go, though, Rose regained control and pulled away from him.

  She threw him a quick glance, blushing. Rose’s eyes traveled low, fixating on the curb for a while before she was steady enough to look at him again.

  Leaning with her back against his car, she said, “I guess that was good night, then.”

  “I guess it was.”

  “Good night, Ethan.” Rose stepped toward him.

  “Good night, Rose.” He cupped her face in his hands and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

  Rose could sense his stare on her back as she walked away, and couldn’t resist glancing back at him one last time. Ethan had taken her place against his car, watching her go, his gaze smoldering. Rose ran the last few steps toward the door and disappeared inside the house, feeling out of breath.

  The moment she closed the door, however, the brief elation Ethan’s kiss had given her vanished. As she collapsed to the floor, a strong pain constricted her lungs. Rose rested her head on her knees and let the tears she’d been holding back for the past hour run freely.

  Tyler

  In Georgiana’s apartment, in her bed, Tyler lay awake, restless. Georgiana was sleeping naked beside him, snoring faintly. He’d had sex with her tonight, more out of frustration than anything else. Tyler hadn’t enjoyed it; he’d been thinking about Rose the entire time. Even when she wasn’t here, she was all he could think about. He’d been livid with her all night for the way she’d openly flirted with Georgiana’s brother. And now, white-hot jealousy was coursing through his veins like venom.

  Tyler couldn’t get the image of her going home with Ethan out of his mind. Had she really gone home, or had she gone back to his apartment? Was she having sex with him now? The thought of Rose, naked, with somebody else was unbearable. Unthinkable. The image was enough to send him shooting out of the bed. Tyler needed to know, now. He had to know if she was at home, waiting for him or not.

  The sudden movement woke Georgiana. She stirred and looked at him. The room was in half-darkness; the only light came from the street lamps outside. Tyler doubted she could see much more of him than his dark silhouette.

  “What’s up, baby?” she asked.

  “I can’t sleep. I need my bed.”

  “You never had a problem with my bed before.”

  “I do tonight,” he said harshly. Then, realizing it’d be easier to be nice to Georgiana rather than start an argument, he leaned toward her to kiss her forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I wake up, okay? Now, go back to sleep.”

  Apparently soothed by his sweet tone, Georgiana didn’t protest further, her eyelids fluttering shut.

  The journey home seemed infinite to Tyler, even though the streets were deserted this late at night. Every red light seemed to linger for an eternity. He sat in his car nervously drumming his fingers on the wheel, coils of anxiety twisting his stomach into knots. Rose was home, she had to be home. Tyler needed to explain Paris to her, and then she’d forgive him. Rose always did. Six months was nothing. They’d known each other for all their lives; six months in France didn’t matter.

  When he finally pulled over in front of his house, Tyler parked the car in a hurry and ran up the alleyway. Once inside, he paused briefly in the entrance hall, listening for any sound. Nothing. All was silent. He took off his shoes and jacket without turning on any lights and ran up the stairs, trying not to make too much noise.

  Rose’s door was closed. He stopped in front of it for a moment, undecided. But he had to know. He turned the knob slowly, again careful not to produce a sound.

  Tyler peered into the room, filled with trepidation. The lights were all off, and the curtains closed. But his eyes were already used to the semi-darkness, and he could distinguish the slim outline of a body lying on the bed, curled up under the covers.

  Rose was home. Of course, she was home. Relief washed over him. How stupid had he been to think she would’ve gone home with that dude? Rose loved him. She’d be angry with him in the morning, sure, and would probably yell at him, but she’d always be there for him. Tyler went to bed, the most relaxed he’d been the entire week. Everything would be fine.

  Thirteen

  Rose

  Rose cried herself to sleep and woke up the next morning feeling miserable. A few groggy seconds passed before Rose remembered why she was in such a terrible mood. Tyler was moving to France with Georgiana. At the thought, her stomach churned and Rose pressed her lips together trying not to gag. What now? She’d have to move out at once. The realization made her even angrier; in one swift move, Georgiana was going to get everything she wanted. Rose hated her like she’d never hated anyone in her entire life.

  Her loathing of Georgiana was interrupted by the sound of the toilet being flushed. Tyler was home. Rose’s heart skipped a beat. When had he returned? What was the time? 7:45. What w
as Tyler doing home so early? Rose couldn’t talk to him, not a mere few hours after learning the truth of where she stood with him. In fact, her plan was to sneak out of the house before he got back from Georgiana’s place and return long after his bedtime. What was she going to do now? Rose wasn’t ready to face him. She didn’t want to see him at all.

  Her heart felt like it stopped altogether when a faint knock sounded on her door. Shoot! What now? Rose didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.

  The knock came again, louder this time. A shiver ran down Rose’s spine and she lifted the covers higher over her head as if they could shield her from Tyler.

  “Rose?” Tyler’s voice came tentatively from the other side. “Rose, I know you’re in there.”

  How did he know?

  “Rose, we need to talk.”

  Oh, so now he wants to talk.

  “Go away!” she shouted, jerking out of bed. No chance of being embarrassed as she was wearing a baggy T-shirt and long pajama pants.

  “Rose, I’m coming in.”

  Tyler came into the room, dressed in a white T-shirt and gray sweat pants.

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” she said.

  They faced each other, standing on opposite sides of her bed.

  “Rose, please, I had no choice.”

  She’d expected this excuse and was ready for it. “Oh, really?” Rose snapped. “And what exactly stopped you from telling me you were moving to France with your girlfriend?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Why?” Rose yelled, hysterical. “Oh, yeah! Because you wanted to keep screwing me until you left. You’re a jerk.”

  “Rose, please, it’s not like that and you know it. I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen. Professor Hendricks summoned me into his office last Monday to tell me Montgomery had backed out of the French scholarship and that, if I wanted it, the spot was mine. But since the program started in three weeks, I had to give him an answer right then—and you know how much I wanted that scholarship. So, I said yes. I didn’t even know Georgiana was also going until I’d already accepted.”

  “That witch made this happen, didn’t she? How?” Rose could hear the venom in her voice, but she didn’t care.

  “I don’t know. Both Montgomery and Brown withdrew from the exchange program at the last second. Georgiana must’ve had her father involved—I’m guessing he offered them something to give up their spots.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” Rose hissed.

  “What?” Tyler seemed thrown off balance by the fury of her question.

  “Last night. Did. You. Have. Sex. With. Her?”

  It was the first time Rose asked him, and she had a hunch it was also the wrong time to ask.

  Tyler looked at her with a desperate expression.

  “You bastard…” Rose started to sob.

  “Rose, please, it didn’t mean anything. I was thinking about you the entire time.”

  How many times had she heard that same plea? Every time he’d cheated on one of his girlfriends and had been caught…

  Oh, no. She’d become one of his girls. The thing she’d feared the most had become true.

  “Get out,” she commanded. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t even want to see you.”

  “Rose, please…”

  “Get out.”

  “Rose…”

  “I said GET OUT!” she screamed.

  Tyler

  Tyler had never seen Rose this mad, and to be honest, she was scaring him a little. So he did as she asked and gave her space, resolving to talk to her later, once she calmed down.

  He never got the chance. In the next few days, Rose became a ghost. She left the house at dawn and always came back after midnight. When he waited up for her, Rose ran from the entrance door to her room, ignoring his calls as she locked herself inside. One night he camped outside her bedroom, determined to catch her before she left the next morning. But he fell asleep on the floor as he kept vigil. When Tyler awoke the next morning, Rose was gone. She must’ve stepped over his sleeping body and left without waking him. Even outside the house, he couldn’t find a chance to talk to her—Georgiana shadowed him everywhere, and he was never alone long enough to seek Rose out.

  During his last week in the States, Rose disappeared altogether, only to reappear two days before he was to leave for Paris. Tyler suspected she’d gone home to Dallas to visit her family without telling him.

  The night before his departure, Tyler was in his room, finishing packing, when he heard the front door slam shut. Rose was home; no one else had a key. For a moment, he was tempted to go out and try to talk to her again. But given how badly every previous attempt had gone, he decided it was better to wait until he was back from France. When Tyler returned, he’d get rid of Georgiana, and then Rose would forgive him.

  Fourteen

  Rose

  Rose hid in her room, feeling dead inside. Tyler was leaving tomorrow; he wouldn’t just be in a different city, he’d be on a different continent entirely. She’d done her best to avoid him after their fight. Rose didn’t want to hear his excuses; she’d heard all of them before. The same words uttered a thousand times to as many girls. When she’d found him sleeping outside her door, she’d almost given in, but somehow she’d managed to stay strong.

  But tonight was different. It was their last night.

  Rose changed into one of the longish T-shirts she liked to use to sleep and lay on the bed, but she couldn’t stand still. On impulse, she got up, crossed the hall, and burst Tyler’s door open. He was already in bed, his hand halfway to the table lamp, ready to turn it off.

  Tyler looked up at Rose, surprised. “Oh, so now you’re talking to me?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, removing her T-shirt in one swift movement. “Not talking.”

  ***

  Afterward, Rose spent the night awake on the bed, staring at the black ceiling and listening to Tyler’s deep breathing as he slept beside her. When she got scared he might wake up, she snuck out of the bed. Outside his window, the first light of dawn was approaching, and the night fled before it. Just like Rose was fleeing from Tyler.

  She collected her discarded T-shirt from the floor and tiptoed toward the safety of her room. Once inside, Rose locked the door. Tyler wouldn’t try to wake her the next morning; he had to leave early for the airport. She didn’t want to say goodbye. She couldn’t.

  ***

  Over the next few weeks, the memory of that night haunted Rose, no matter how much she tried to push it out of her mind. She needed to forget Tyler. He was in Paris with Georgiana. What were they doing? No, no, no. She had to stop torturing herself obsessing over what Tyler was or wasn’t doing and move on.

  A six-month break would do the trick. It had to. If she wanted things to go back to the way they’d been, she only needed time to forgive and forget. It wasn’t too late for them to be friends again. But she needed to move out before he came back; this house was too full of him, too full of them.

  Right, move. It was a Saturday morning, three weeks after Tyler and Georgiana had left. Rose was at the kitchen table scrolling through Craigslist, looking for rental houses. She’d already found a few options within her price range, but the pictures were so revolting that the search was doing nothing to improve her mood.

  As she looked at one ugly house picture after another, her phone started ringing. An unknown number beginning with the Boston area code appeared on-screen.

  “Hello?” she greeted, perplexed. It wasn’t often she received phone calls from unknown numbers.

  “Rose?”

  It was a male voice, one she didn’t recognize.

  “Yes? Who is this?”

  “You have no idea who I am. Ouch, I’m hurt.”

  He was funny, and she liked his voice, but she kept quiet.

  “It’s Ethan.”

  Her stomach did a little flip.

/>   “Georgiana’s brother,” he added for good measure.

  Georgiana. Tyler. France. Her stomach landed from the flip with an almighty crash.

  “Oh, hi,” she said, trying to keep an even tone. It wasn’t easy; she felt like she might start sobbing at any moment.

  “Hi.” He sounded put-off by her subdued reply—which, somehow, uplifted her.

  She resumed in a much cheerier tone. “Just when I thought you’d forgotten all about me.” She had a hunch it wasn’t by chance he’d waited until Tyler was out of the country before calling her.

  “Well, I had to make sure I could present a winner before calling you.”

  “A winner?” Rose asked, both puzzled and captivated.

  “I have a wager to propose.”

  “This early on a Saturday morning? Shouldn’t we wait until at least, I don’t know, late afternoon before we start gambling?”

  “Normally I’d say yes, but since I have a better chance of winning in broad daylight, you’ll have to make an exception.”

  “Would I want you to win?” she asked, surprised by her own coquettishness.

  “I think it’ll be a win-win, so yeah…”

  “Mmm, I’m intrigued. Tell me everything.”

  An hour later, as she walked up the steps of a fancy new building just a few blocks away from Harvard, she knew she’d lost the bet. As Ethan had predicted, she was not at all sorry about her defeat.

  Ethan had called to show her an apartment he thought she might like on the condition that if she were to take it, she’d have to go out to dinner with him. Rose vaguely remembered telling him about her search for an apartment the night of Georgiana’s party. It hadn’t been true back then, and she hadn’t foreseen her lie becoming the truth quite so abruptly. But now she was glad for it. She welcomed the distraction; it was the first positive thing that had happened to her in a while.