by Cassie Mae
“You expect to pay my bid too?” She sets her beer on the bar. “Is he worth two months of your salary?”
I’m going to punch those assumptions right back into her mouth.
“Yes,” I say. “And then some.”
She gives me a slow smile, pushing away her drink. “Looks like I got him for a steal.”
“Five hundred and twenty,” I say with a lot more threat than the amount deserves, but I’ve already gone all in, and I can probably scrounge up a twenty from somewhere.
She flips her purple hair from her face, laughing at me again. “Seriously, go away.”
“I’m not leaving. I need tonight.”
Her amused expression turns hard so fast I almost believe it was the sudden green light drifting over our heads that gave her a very unflattering, villainess quality. But the light disappears and the straight line of her mouth remains.
“What makes you think I don’t need tonight? Why the hell would I come to a place like this unless I was desperate, hm? I won him; I’m not trading him for another guy or for money. Tonight is for me, and you can either scamper off or I’ll make you.”
I eye her hand for rings. My fingers are naked and have been for a year now, the only piece of hand jewelry I used to own now in a pawnshop somewhere. Just want to make sure that if punches are thrown I’m not going to get sliced by a rock.
She has a single band on her right thumb that chains to her forefinger. I can handle that.
“You’ll have to make me.”
Her hand shoots up, and I pull my arms in front to block her, but she just snaps into the air and whistles. Next thing I know there’s a giant man-of-the-universe torso in my face.
“Step back,” he says in a voice so deep it rumbles through my feet. My heart dubsteps in my chest, and I slowly raise my eyes to meet his.
“Hiya,” I say weakly. “I’m in charge of the auction tonight. Just running over some rules with our bidders.”
The winner sighs behind the massive amount of man, clearly no longer amused by my presence.
“Take her outside, please. I don’t feel safe around her.”
I’m about to plead my case—they can’t kick me out when I’m part of this whole charity shindig—but he starts caging me toward the door.
“Wait, no. I’m not done here!” I shout like a crazy person. “Alec! Tell them to stop! Where the hell are you? Don’t go with that woman; she’s psycho!”
Laughs erupt around me, and I know I’m a big hypocrite but I don’t care. I lunge forward, trying to duck under He-Man’s arm, but he blocks me again, causing people to cheer and my cheeks to rush with warmth. My feet hit the pavement outside, and the cool air pinches at my skin.
“You’ll be invited back in momentarily,” he says, standing in front of the entrance. “Rian does not plan on staying.”
I try to wriggle around him, to no avail. I wonder if he’d understand if I explained that Alec is my soulmate and it is a crime against love to not let me proclaim myself…and yeah, I sound crazy even in my head.
“Let me back in right n—” I blink and catch my breath. Wait…“Rian?” Who the hell is this Rian?
18 MONTHS, 9 DAYS AGO: 3:00 A.M.
After hours of tossing and turning, I finally drift off into a semi-sleep. My mind keeps swirling around Alec, his confession, and the promise that he broke immediately after he made it. Things have changed, and heaven forbid he return any of my calls.
My phone buzzes against my nightstand, and I reach my arm up there and fumble around for it, cursing under my breath. Under normal circumstances I’d roll over and ignore the buzz, but if Alec has decided to break the radio silence, I want to catch him doing it.
“Hello?” I croak out, not even bothering to open my eyes. There’s no answer, because what I mistook for a phone call was only a text. I open one eye and brace myself for the blinding light of my phone. After my eyes have adjusted, I focus enough on the message to read it.
I need to cash in on the pact we made on graduation. :) :)
Liz needs to find a better time of day to send non-emergency text message— Wait. Graduation pact. The memory starts unfolding in my sleepy brain, feeling almost dreamlike. After months of waiting to hear if we’d be accepted to the same school, we celebrated our NYU status with a trip to the Big Apple to look for housing, dorms, and cute boys, and we skipped our graduation for the vacation. A barely awake eighteen-year-old version of myself rolled over in the hotel bed the night we were officially graduates, knowing I was on the cusp of a brand-new life, stuck out my pinky, and said to my best friend, “Promise when we get married, no matter how many years from now that is, that we are each other’s maid of honor.”
Liz snorted, also in a sleepy daze, drunk on exhilaration and the idea of freedom and adulthood, and linked her pinky with mine. Little did we know that a few short months later she’d be meeting Landon, and three and a half years from then…she’d send me this text.
I sit upright and call her, feeling 99.9 percent excited for my best friend getting married. However, that 0.1 percent of jealousy makes me want to call Eli instead and ask him if he’s ready for me yet. He doesn’t know, but I’ve said no to something that could’ve been extraordinarily special, just to keep my heart saved for him.
Chapter 16
PRESENT DAY
I’ve always appreciated the art of the grand gesture. It was part of the reason I started dating Eli way back when. To be completely honest, I never gave him a romantic thought before he proclaimed his true feelings for me. After the announcement at the football game and the invitation to the prom delivered by the marching band, Liz had to physically hold on to me so I didn’t swoon. Eli’s elaborate surprises were unlimited; every anniversary and birthday he never disappointed. I got used to that love language, anticipated it, even; it’s the only language of love I know how to speak.
Pacing outside the club, whipping my neck around every time I hear the door open, I wonder if I should switch up the language so that Alec understands my intentions. Go with words of affirmation and scream it out to him as soon as he steps through the door? It’s tempting, but…it just doesn’t seem like it’s enough, not after everything we’ve been through.
I check the time, then go back to tapping my phone against my thigh as I pace up and down the walk. Maybe I’ll text him, but I shake my head free of that thought because Alec never checks his phone when he’s out with a woman. Damn his generosity.
The faint smell of spray paint hits the night air, and I cough as I accidentally inhale the strong perfume of it. Someone must be tagging nearby. It’s not an uncommon activity in this part of the city, yet I suddenly feel the need to look over my shoulder.
Twenty excruciatingly long minutes later, Liz squeezes her bundled-up self out of a cab and joins me on the walk. Her cheeks are the same color as her bright pink marshmallow coat, and her big round eyes tell me she already means business, even though we haven’t said anything yet.
“How much do you need?” she asks, stuffing a gloved hand into the pocket of her oversized winter wear. It’s actually quite warm for a New York winter—I only brought a jacket and a scarf tonight, which are currently hanging backstage—but Liz has always been a summer enthusiast.
“Nothing,” I tell her, looking hopelessly at the bar’s door. “I got kicked out of my own event.”
“Oh no.” She winces. “Did you hit a bitch?”
“Didn’t get the chance. She has a bodyguard or something. Massive muscles shepherded me out the door.”
Liz snorts, pulling at her white-faux-fur-lined hood. A chill runs up my arms, and the adrenaline and panic that kept me warm start to fade. Maybe I should’ve called her and told her to abort; this Rian character seems set on taking Alec and having her way with him.
“Don’t look so sad, boo bear,” Liz teases in a baby voice I ought to smack out of her. “I’ve got your back.”
“What exactly is your plan?”
“I’m super-pe
rsuasive.” She blows out a breath and begrudgingly unzips her coat. A pair of high-waisted leather pants and an off-the-shoulder rock T-shirt are underneath. Both belong to me, but they flatter her body more than mine.
“ ’Kay,” she says. “Who am I looking for?”
“Short girl, purple hair, lots of tattoos. She has a whole sleeve that goes up onto her neck and a little of her face. Her name is Rian.”
“Rian? The street artist?” She laughs. “Explains the bodyguard.”
“Is she famous?”
“Google will help you out from under that rock.” Liz hands over the coat and shows off her skills by sprinting across the street in her stiletto-heeled boots. I jam my arms into the pink marshmallow before all her body heat escapes it, and then take a deep breath.
Oh my…the spray paint scent in the air really plays with my brain, making me believe that Alec is standing in the shadows of the alley next to the bar. I squint, trying to focus on him. It’s dark, but I think it’s the same blond hair, the same build. Alec has such a false-advertising type of body. He looks so lean, like there’s nothing underneath his clothes but skin and bones. I know much better now, and the feel of his taut and well-hidden muscles are imprinted against every ounce of skin they have been in contact with…so pretty much everywhere. Tingles erupt all over my body, and it’s so not the weather making it happen.
He turns his head, and I swear I see the shadows dip on his cheek, indicating that one deep dimple that transforms Alec’s smile from adorable to panty-dropping. I take a step toward him and nearly run into a man passing me on the sidewalk.
“Sorry,” I say with a smile, and then I jolt back because he looks exactly like Alec from behind. I shake my head, and another doppelgänger shows up in my peripheral vision before he gets into a cab.
I stuff the bottom half of my face into the faux fur of the coat’s hood. The fumes are causing Alec-hallucinations, and I don’t want to see any more impostors, only the real deal. So I tear my eyes away from everyone around me and turn all my attention to Google and its abundance of knowledge on Rian. I get a good dose of local celebrity education before I hear a kerfuffle across the street. It takes me a few seconds to realize that one of the girls talking animatedly is my best friend in my jacket and scarf.
“What?” I say when I get next to her. Her eyes round as she turns away from the other girl she was talking to and shakes her head slightly at me.
“I…I just…don’t know what I was doing in there.”
The bouncer lifts an eyebrow at us, and so I take Liz by the arm and pull her to the side of the building that isn’t enveloped in spray paint fumes
“I couldn’t find Rian, so I started looking for Alec, but couldn’t find him either,” she spouts, barely taking a breath. “Then I just started…cawing.”
I hold back a laugh. “Like a bird?”
“Exactly like a bird.” Her shoulders lift like she has no explanation. “It just came out. Caw! Caw!”
I jolt back at her sudden outburst and watch the people passing give us amused grins.
“Well, I grabbed everyone’s attention in there, and I think…Theresa, I’m pretty sure they left. Your co-worker—what’s-her-face, the one with the chunky necklace—she said that all the winners paid and that some left with their bachelors. She’s almost positive she saw Rian leave out the back with Alec.”
My shoulders slump in a heap under the massively fluffy fabric of Liz’s coat. I can feel the weight of a three-thousand-dollar grand gesture searing a hole in my pocket. A sudden craving for chocolate hits me, and I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth, wishing I had access to a peanut butter cup.
“Well, I love you for trying,” I say with a long sigh. “You’re the only person I know who’d bribe their best friend’s competition.”
She attempts a smile. Her bottom lip trembles and she pulls it with her teeth to try to get it to stop.
“Liz, you’re not crying, are you?”
“Kind of,” she croaks. “I might just be shivering.”
I quickly switch outerwear with her, and she starts shaking her head sorrowfully at me as I button up the jacket over the purple cocktail dress that we found after returning the yellow one. I wrap the red scarf around my neck, and she looks at it with even more sorrow. This was originally Alec’s scarf.
“This was supposed to be your night,” she says with the tone of someone who’s just lost their beloved pet. My defeated heart thumps sadly in agreement, but my mouth says something else.
“We’ve had lots of nights.” I tuck my arms in, feeling the briskness in the air now that I’m not in an overstuffed winter coat. “We’ll get another one.”
“If he doesn’t get swept away by Miss Famous.”
I put my hand to my heart. “Thank you so much for your optimism.”
She frowns. “I’m sorry.”
But she’s just put color into a painting I was already forming in my head. Long, sexy looks. A romantic dinner. Clever conversation. Fun touches that turn into flirty touches that turn into intimate ones. And they’re all with Rian and not me. Each image nibbles at my brain, taking more and more with every bite until my head is completely consumed by the worst of the worst of images. I shake my head furiously at our feet.
“Can we just…can you hang out with me until midnight? Distract me from all the scenarios playing in my head right now? I don’t want to think about what they might be doing or if he’ll even be around at midnight to call or…No, no, I don’t want to imagine it. Distract me, please?”
“Sure,” she says after a moment’s pause. I smile and turn, only to have her grab my arm. “Wait…no.”
“What?”
Her eyes widen. “No. I’m not going to distract you.”
I cross my arms and let out a huff. “You are losing best-friend points.”
She looks at me with the eyes of someone who has just had an epiphany. Her hand grips my forearm with the strength of He-Man. “How many times have you let him walk away, or he let you walk away? You said it already—you’ve had so many nights together. Don’t just let things happen this time, Theresa. Make them happen.”
“Hollywood has fried your brain,” I tell her, not even joking about it. What she’s describing is a movie plot.
“Maybe the movies have it right.” Her grip hasn’t loosened. “Maybe instead of going home and watching hours of Jensen Ackles defeat paranormal activity and dreaming of having a man that handsome in your life, you actually go find the real-life man and tell him how you feel. Make a fool of yourself, be obnoxious and crazy, and do it because this is your night. Then you guys can kiss and make love all over his apartment and get married and your babies will be friends with my babies and we’ll all celebrate holidays and birthdays and go through life together until we’re old and sitting on the front porch and Landon will be across from his best friend and I’ll be across from mine and we’ll all be holding hands—”
“And singing kumbaya and wearing matching ugly Christmas sweaters and having joint Tupperware parties.”
“Admit it—that sounds awesome.”
I purse my lips but say nothing, silently giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she’s right. I want all that—maybe not in the Stepford Wives kind of way, but I do want that kind of life and love, and I want it with Alec.
“What could I even do at this point? He left.”
“Call him.”
“He won’t answer. Not if he’s out on a date.”
Her eyebrows rise, and she lets out a tiny excited squeal. “He will if Landon calls.”
“Why?”
“Landon only calls in an emergency.” She pulls out a silver-cased phone. “And in my rush to get here, I accidentally grabbed the wrong cell.”
“I’m telling you, he won’t answer.”
Liz holds out the phone and swipes across the image of Alec’s face, which even on a screen gives me massive hormonal butterflies. She presses speaker, and we huddle in to listen
to the ringer. After five rings, Alec’s voicemail pops on.
“Okay, texting then,” Liz says, not deterred at all, even after the arrogant look I toss her way. “We can at least find out where he is.”
“Are you texting as Landon or as you?”
“I can fake dude texts. No emojis or punctuation.”
I shake my head, but my sad heart starts to pound underneath the thin layers of my jacket and dress. I feel a bit rebellious, a sensation I haven’t felt in a long while. Structure and courtesy and rule-following are simple and make things easier most of the time. But I followed Eli’s rules in our open relationship, and that only led me here—to having lost so much time with Alec that every second he spends not knowing that I’m deeply in love with him makes me feel all the more anxious to spit it out. I think Liz understands, even though I haven’t said it out loud, and I crack a small smile at her face, which is bathed in the light from Landon’s phone.
“Why do you want me to do this now?” I ask, not refuting her, but just wanting to know what response she’ll have for me. “Why not let me wait until his date is over?”
She pauses over the keypad, flicking her eyes up to mine. “Given all the nights you guys did nothing, I think it’s time that one of you finally do something.”
18 MONTHS, 8 DAYS AGO: 2:31 P.M.
After spending all morning and a good portion of my afternoon planning an impromptu engagement party for Liz and Landon, I flop down on the living room floor, too exhausted to take the three steps to the much more comfortable couch. I’m sure a good half-hour nap and a 5-Hour Energy will revive me enough to host the all-nighter I have in store for the lovely couple.
My eyes flutter closed, and I roll to my side, using my arm as a pillow. I’ll regret this position, I know it, but right now I’m too close to sleep to care about the inevitable sore neck I’ll have when I wake up.
Soft images start invading my mind, and a stomach flutter upturns my lips into a subconscious sleepy smile. Alec’s red vest is the first fuzzy image I see. He was wearing his Bed Bath & Beyond uniform when I stopped by his place this morning. The engagement of our best friends broke the icy silence he’d been maintaining over the past few weeks, and instead of being infuriated with him, the moment I saw him in that red vest, all seemed forgiven. On my end, at least. There was this moment right before I left when his eyes connected with mine. Alec has always made such great eye contact with me, and though I can’t explain it, I’ve managed to reciprocate. Though if you ask me to have eye contact with anyone else, I get a bit too jittery to achieve the task at hand.