Friend Zone Series Box Set

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Friend Zone Series Box Set Page 7

by Blanchard, Nicole


  “Friday after you broke up with him he came over to the bar asking for your spare key so he could get his stuff. I didn’t even think about it because I was so pissed off from the things he said.” I didn’t even want to touch how scrambled my brain had been after kissing her. “I should have asked you if it was okay. I should have known he’d try something after the shit he pulled. I’m sorry, Char. Just tell me how I can make it up to you.”

  She wiped her face and took a shaky breath. “You gave him a k-key?”

  I wished she’d yell. It would be so much easier than the heartbreak on her face. “Yes. I’m so sorry. If I could take it back I would.”

  Her shoulders slumped and she blew out a long breath. I braced my hands on the island, preparing for a thorough tongue-lashing. Bare feet appeared in my field of vision where they paused opposite the island. She was so close, but she’d never felt so far away.

  “I don’t know what to think about this right now,” she began, then her voice cut off. I stared at her bare feet and realized she hadn’t been able to get another pair of shoes. Because of me. “I don’t want to be angry with you, I can’t even remember the last time I truly didn’t want to look at you. But that’s how I feel. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I’m homeless. It’s too much. I’m going to go get a shower and get some sleep and maybe tomorrow I’ll know how to handle everything, but right now, I think I need some space.”

  “I understand.” My voice sounded like shit. I cleared my throat. “Do you need anything? Towels or—”

  She shuffled her feet. “I can find them.” Silence descended and I didn’t dare break it. “Goodnight, Liam.”

  “’Night,” I called to her retreating back. I wanted to say more, but I bit my tongue. She was right, she needed space. I’d done more than enough. I just hoped she could forgive me.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie

  My confusion haunted my dreams. Not only was I in an unfamiliar place, but the sense of losing all my things, of being displaced again brought back all the insecurities I felt after my mom left. I dreamt of her for the first time in nearly a decade that night. Every time I woke up in a cold sweat and tried to talk myself down until I passed out again, only for the cycle to continue on relentlessly. By the time the sun rose, I didn’t feel any more rested than I had when I’d first put my head to a Liam-scented pillow.

  I’d set several alarms the night before in five-minute increments and it took every single one of them to get me fully awake and out of bed in time for my clinical rounds at the crack of dawn. Luckily, I kept a couple changes of scrubs in my car so they weren’t damaged and had grabbed them before coming to Liam’s. I tossed them in his dryer as I padded around his place, trying not to make any noise.

  I spent quite a bit of time in it since we’d left Nassau for Tallahassee to go to FSU, but I saw it with new eyes now that I’d be staying for God only knew how long. Unlike me, he hadn’t moved around each year trying out new complexes and trying to find one that fit. He’d found this dinky little duplex our freshman year and had stubbornly stuck to it.

  It was in a prime location just off of Lake Ella where we’d often jog together when our schedules matched. I’d point out the cute puppies and he’d patiently let me pet them or coo at the geese and ducks. But there’d be no jogging this morning. I wasn’t sure I could look at Liam. He didn’t have class until ten-thirty or work until five. Part of me wanted to see him peek out his door, but another was grateful he was still asleep. I didn’t want to look at him and still be mad.

  I pushed thoughts of jogging out of my mind and focused on getting ready. I didn’t have any food here—I’d have to go shopping after clinicals and classes, another expense I couldn’t really afford. Then I spotted the note on the counter. It was written on a flashcard in Liam’s precise handwriting and propped against the coffeemaker.

  Help yourself to anything you need. -Liam P.S. I’m a jerk.

  Tears prickled the back of my eyes and then I gasped as the coffeemaker gurgled to life and began to drip hot, fresh coffee into the pot. The scent perked my groggy brain right up and it was ready and willing to forgive Liam all his transgressions. I hadn’t had time to process everything, but coffee was always the way to my heart and he knew it. I filled a thermos from his cabinets and relented by taking a slightly overripe apple and a granola bar. His pantry was pathetically bare—men, I scoffed inwardly—and I decided I’d grocery shop that afternoon. Who cared if I wouldn’t have any money left? I’d need ice cream after I met with my building super this afternoon anyway.

  The dryer beeped as I polished off my first cup of coffee and poured a second. I quickly dressed in my school-issued scrubs and packed a second plain pair to use for work afterward. I pulled back my hair into a serviceable ponytail and scrubbed my face with warm water and a hand towel. I made do with what little makeup I carried with me in my purse, a little concealer, some eyeliner and called it good.

  I packed the snacks in my bag along with my change of scrubs and paused by the front door. I gave half a thought to waking Liam up, then I glanced at the clock. I wouldn’t have time. Besides, I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.

  * * *

  I dragged myself into work after a long round of clinicals and an endless morning of classes. It was only the thermos of coffee I’d filched from Liam that kept me going. It didn’t taste good after about the third reheat, but it kept my eyes open long enough to keep the patients I saw to alive and take notes during my lectures. The only negative was it constantly reminded me of him, what he’d done, that I’d see him in just a couple hours. I hated being on the outs with him. It felt unnatural.

  He’d texted me once during the day, but I still hadn’t replied. I was putting it off. The therapist who I’d been required to see after my mother’s disappearance and my father’s death told me I had an avoidant personality. I thought she was a quack at the time, but maybe she’d been onto something. I’d happily put off this confrontation, oh, forever.

  Which is why I was at least looking forward to work. A lot of people looked down on elder care, but it soothed me. It reminded me of my dad’s last days in hospice, of Grandma Dorothy and the good men and women who cared for them. I liked being that person for someone else’s family. Eventually I’d like to go into critical care, but for now this paid the bills and gave me purpose.

  “Good morning, Mr. Williams,” I said as I pushed through the door to my favorite patient’s room, but it was empty. I knocked on the attached bathroom door. “Mr. Williams?”

  My heart began to thud dully in my chest. Had he left? Had he…passed away?

  I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I began to speed out the door when it pushed open and Mr. Williams, a thinly-built man with a shock of white hair and watery green eyes, lit up when he saw me.

  “Charlotte!” he exclaimed and I smiled. He was the only person, after my dad, who I let call me by my real name.

  “Mr. Williams. You scared me. I thought you’d left.” I stepped into his embrace and inhaled the scent of Old Spice and antiseptic. My insides unclenched.

  “You couldn’t run me away, sweetheart. Who else would play chess with me and let me win?”

  “No one,” I said fondly as I got out the board and began setting up the pieces. “Did you take your medicine?”

  He scowled, but we both knew it was only for show. “You should know better than to torture an old man.”

  I tutted at him and retrieved his medicine from the pharmacy station. “Bottom’s up!” I said and his scowl deepened at my cheerfulness, but he complied. “Now let’s see if I can beat you again.”

  “Not a chance, missy.”

  “Did you have a good weekend?” I asked as I carefully considered my opening move. It wouldn’t matter what I did. Despite his age and my teasing, Mr. Williams was a shark at chess and I’d only ever beat him once and that was only because he’d just had surgery to repair his hip and had been on some serious pain killers. I chose a pawn
at random and immediately regretted my decision when his beard twitched.

  He mimicked my move, but I had no clue what he was planning. A chess genius I was not. “It was boring here without you to keep me company,” he said. “What did you do?”

  “I went to visit Liam’s family near Jacksonville for the weekend.” I moved another pawn, but he struck and captured it with a masculine laugh.

  I felt the tension leech from my shoulders the longer we played. I told him about Grandma Dorothy and her new fluorescent orange blanket. He had a similar one, this one an unearthly yellow, draped over the foot of his own bed. I even told him about the trouble with my apartment and how Liam had a hand in me losing it.

  Mr. William’s had three-quarters of my pieces by the end of my update. “Don’t be too hard on him. He sounds like a good friend from what you’ve told me. He’s probably madder at himself than you are at him.”

  I thought of the note he left me, the coffee he’d made. “I know that, but it just sucks all around.”

  “I know it does, but you can find another place to rent. You won’t be able to replace a friend so easily.” With that sage advice, Mr. Williams moved his bishop and crowed, “Checkmate!”

  I frowned at the board. “You’re diabolical,” I said, then began cleaning up the set.

  “You’re getting better. One day you may even beat me.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Williams, it’s nice of you to say, but we both know I’m hopeless.” I smiled at him and lifted the chess box in greeting. “Rematch next week.”

  “You got it,” he said as he settled into his hospital bed and turned on the TV to the news. “You’ll have to update me about you and your young man.”

  “We’ll see,” I said over my shoulder.

  I finished my rounds with Mr. William’s words fresh on my mind. I knew it wasn’t Liam’s fault for what happened, not really. Andrew had used the spare key a couple times before to get a spare set of scrubs for me when I was tied up in class or get something of his he left. It wasn’t completely unreasonable for Liam to give him the key. After Andrew blew up at us…after the kiss…suffice it to say we were both distracted.

  The girls weren’t much help when I texted to let them know what was going on. They both lived in the same complex and had noticed all of the commotion that morning. I didn’t get a chance to reply until I finished my shift.

  EMBER: OMG!!! That rat bastard! Do you need me to come over and help you clean up? I’ll see what I can sneak in and salvage since they won’t let you in. If you don’t have a place to stay, you can crash here.

  LAYLA: Tequila Tuesday at my apartment next week. Not optional! I’ll even provide the tequila this time. Let us know what the super says or if we need to put a hit out on him.

  I sent them both thank yous and promised to keep them updated. I didn’t have a good feeling about my meeting with the super, but I headed there after work to get it over with. I’d feel better once I knew my options…I hoped.

  * * *

  I knew the meeting with the building manager wasn’t going to go well when he had me wait for half an hour in the small lobby on the first floor of my apartment building. I never liked to linger there because it always smelled like spoiled milk despite the heavy rose-scented air freshener they had plugged in to every available outlet. By the time he called me back into his office, I was tired, nauseous, and ready to put my feet up after a long day of clinicals.

  “Ms. St. James, thank you so much for your patience.”

  “Of course,” I said as I took a seat opposite the ancient desk in the middle of the cramped office.

  Despite the comfortable bed in Liam’s spare room, I hadn’t been able to close my eyes and turn off my brain. It was like everything that could go wrong, had. And I didn’t get a good feeling about this meeting. I didn’t know if it was leftover nerves from the day before or what, but there was a knot of tension in my stomach that no amount of chugging water would make go away.

  Mr. Jergan, the building manager, was in his late forties or so with a shiny pink head and the remnants of hair he trimmed fastidiously around its rim. His mustache matched the salt and pepper of what hair remained and was trimmed razor straight. It twitched as he sifted through paperwork.

  “I have some unfortunate news about your unit. It appears the sink in the bathroom had been blocked with a washcloth and overflowed all over the unit.”

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat and fought the urge to cry in frustration. If he got away with this I was going to kill him with my bare hands. “I understand. An ex-boyfriend of mine used the spare key to get some belongings, or so he said. I never had any idea he’d do anything like this. I don’t have renter’s insurance, so he’s cost me everything. Please, can you help me?”

  His expression was unforgiving and my heart sank. “Seeing that the damage, though accidental, was at the hands of someone you’re responsible for we’re holding you liable for the damages. You’re going to have to forfeit your deposit, you understand.” His mustache twitched again and I focused on it as I considered my response.

  “Sir, I can appreciate your position, but there has to be another apartment you can lease me in the meantime. If not here, then at some other building?”

  “Currently, all of our units are full. Normally, we’d offer another for your use per the terms of your lease, but there are none available here or at another property. We will make our best effort to have the unit repaired in a timely fashion, but we won’t be able to offer you accommodation in the meantime. I do apologize for the inconvenience. You’re more than welcome to retrieve the rest of your belongings as soon as the maintenance crew has given me the all-clear.”

  Numb and disbelieving, all I could do was nod. “Do you know how long it’ll take for my apartment to be repaired?”

  He leaned back in the seat and tapped his thumbs on the armrests. “Hopefully within in the next two months, as long as the contractor stays on schedule.”

  It felt like the breath was knocked out of me. I couldn’t afford a hotel for that length of time. Without the return on my deposit, I couldn’t afford a first and last deposit either. Not without dipping into my overseas fund and I was reluctant to sacrifice my dream. But I’d have to if I couldn’t figure out an alternative.

  “If you’ll sign and date these papers here, we’ll get you all taken care of.”

  I glanced at the papers as he handed them over and decided I wasn’t going to let him screw me. I took them and stood abruptly.

  “Erm, Ms. St. James—”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Jergan. I’ll give these a once over and return them to you once I’ve signed them. I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

  Without another word, I spun on my sensible white sneakers and marched out of his office and to the garage where I’d stored my car. I’d managed to use the bus to get it this morning before clinicals. Practically vibrating with frustration, I jabbed my key into the ignition and forced myself to drive carefully through the maddening evening traffic. College kids, liberal amounts of alcohol and unfettered free time did not mix well. Especially at a school like FSU with its notorious reputation for an epic social life.

  I was still livid as I stalked through the grocery store closest to Liam’s duplex. I practically sprinted down the aisles loading my cart with comfort food. Aside from the brief respite of chess with Mr. Williams, it had been a hell of a day. I paid for the groceries and bundled them into the car.

  Despite my pleas otherwise, traffic had cleared by the time I left the grocery store and I made it across town to the duplex in record time. Liam’s truck was parked in the driveway and a light shone in the living room. I didn’t want to be mad at him anymore, I decided. I missed my friend and it had only been a day. There was no more avoiding him.

  I weighed down my arms with the bags because I’d rather lose circulation in my arms than have to go back for two trips. It was a stupid decision because it meant I didn’t have a free hand to open th
e door. I sighed and kicked it with my foot and wondered if sleeping in one of the empty rooms at the adult care facility was an option. The last thing I wanted was for things to be awkward between us.

  He came to the door without a shirt on and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. He froze at the sight of me for a second, then took half of the bags in one of his hands causing his muscles to bulge. Needing to keep my distance from him was practically impossible now that we were living together.

  “Thanks,” I croaked and purposefully shifted out of the way and closed the front door behind me, the remainder grocery bags slapping against my leg along the way. I slumped against the wall with a frustrated growl, let the bags drop to the floor, and squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe if I clicked my heels together the world would go back to normal when I opened them again.

  “Guess your meeting with good old Mr. Jergan didn’t go very well.” I heard the rustle of the bags as he carried them to the kitchen and then returned for the ones by my feet.

  “You can say that again,” I told him without opening my eyes. An epic headache started to beat a wicked tattoo in my temples. “Apparently because Andrew technically had access to my place because he had a key, his damage was my fault. So I’m out my apartment and a deposit. I don’t exactly have a ton of money, so I’m pretty much screwed here because it’ll take me forever to save up first and last month’s rent for another place unless I dip into my overseas savings.”

  “That’s fucked up,” he said, and I was glad he didn’t try to comfort me. One show of sympathy and I might have broken. “You know I can help you with the money, if you want.”

  But we both knew it was mostly a kind gesture. Liam was a broke student saving for vet school like I’d been saving for my volunteer gig. I sighed. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

 

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