The Bad Boy's Forever (The Bad Boy's Girl Book 3)

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The Bad Boy's Forever (The Bad Boy's Girl Book 3) Page 36

by Blair Holden


  I say this to myself as I open the door for Jay for the third time in over two weeks. Ever since he first stopped by to check up on me, he’s come over sometimes on the weekend. The last time we went out for drinks, the time before that we ordered Chinese food and watched Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. There are times when we have actual conversations, like Jay asking me if the stubble he’s trying to grow out will help him land more women, because nothing screams platonic like being able to discuss facial hair, am I right? There’s a lot that can be questioned about my decision to hang out with Jason Stone. Think of it as life coming full circle. The guy who I spent way too much time pining over, wishing he’d look at me and not see the rolls of my stomach, thighs that never had a gap, or generally big-boned stature, but instead see the girl hidden behind all the layers of oversized GAP clothes and fat. But he never did, and even when I lost all that weight, for entirely the wrong reasons, now that I come to think of it, I still wasn’t good enough for him. He’d been too busy spending all his spare time with his limbs entwined with Nicole, who’d been infamous in certain circles for her flexibility.

  Through the years I’ve lost any bitterness I might have felt toward Jay and don’t begrudge him anything. Teenage boys aren’t capable of possessing any emotional depth and can only think with the head between their legs. I think fondly of Cole and just how intuitive and mature he was, even back then. The fact that he could handle an emotional wreck like me and get her to piece her life together? Yeah, let’s just call him my special miracle man.

  Coming back to Jay, I came to the realization ages ago that my feelings for him never even came near the “love” territory, and it seems almost foolish to compare what I feel for Cole to what I ever felt for Jay. It’s like comparing the Knipschildt Chocolatier’s Madeline truffle to your dollar-store candy bar; it’s absurd to even think about the sinful deliciousness being matched with the cheap dose of diabetes. Now reflecting upon it, my crush on him was more so because I was so lonely back then and clung on to the one person who’d been kind to me once during my childhood. I’d stuck to him, thinking that he was the only person who’d stick with me when everyone was abandoning me. I’d placed him on a pedestal he’d never asked to be on and of course he’d failed spectacularly.

  Poor guy.

  But now I see him as the regular twenty-something that he is, and there’s no lingering awkwardness between us, and so he’s been placed safely in the friend-zone. He knows it, I know it, but there’s one person who seems to have a problem getting it into his thick head.

  “He’s here, relax, stop shouting.” I pull the phone away from my ear to save my poor eardrums, and Cole’s near-shrieking fills the room.

  Jay cringes and slowly backs away. “I’ll uh...circle the block and come back.”

  I motion for him to come in anyway and resume trying to placate my drama queen of a boyfriend.

  “Do not let that piece of shit inside, Tessa, or else...”

  I ignore the fact that he just said Tessa instead of one of my beloved nicknames and escape into my room, closing the door behind me.

  “He can hear you and you’re making it worse,” I hiss and he actually growls at me.

  “I can’t believe you’re falling for his pathetic show. You and I both know why he’s doing this and it’d be stupid—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” I try to lower my voice but at this point I’m so angry I don’t care if Doris from three floors down hears me.

  “You’re being utterly unreasonable. It’s been years, Cole, years! You know what I feel for him? Nothing, a big huge void of nothingness exists between the two of us, and you would notice it too if you pulled your head out of your paranoid butt for a second.”

  “It’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him! He’s always been after what I have.”

  “You’re on a winning streak today, aren’t you, Stone? I don’t know about you but I don’t really appreciate being treated like an object.”

  He groans and I can picture him, pacing around his matchbox-sized place, tugging at his hair and cursing his stepbrother to the deepest pits of hell.

  “Look, when he told me that he was going to go check up on you when you were sick, I didn’t know that it’d become a regular thing. What the hell is he playing at coming to see you every other day like some lovesick puppy? Don’t tell me you don’t think it’s suspicious.”

  I roll my eyes. “We’re not in a telenovela, Cole, and not everything has to do with another guy’s secret but burning passion for me. He’s new to the city, so am I, and the weekends end up being really boring if you don’t have someone to hang out with. That’s all we’re doing, hanging out. If you haven’t noticed already, I don’t have people racing to my door to be friends with me. It’s nice to have someone familiar around, you know?”

  Maybe he doesn’t, I mean, how could he? Cole is Mr. Popular, he could make friends with the Grinch and Scrooge if you left them alone for enough time. He’s constantly swarmed by people dying to be close to him because the man literally radiates confidence, warmth, and a fun-loving but kind-hearted spirit. I, on the other hand, have the tendency to avoid people like we should all avoid the sun when we’re out without sunscreen. Just your usual public service announcement here. So ultimately, when I have someone to hang out with and to not feel like the walls of my home are constantly closing in on me? It feels great even if it’s Jay Jay.

  “Now you’re just making me feel like an asshole,” he grumbles. “What about that Leila girl?”

  “You think Leila and I could be friends? In what universe? That girl would rather forgo her twice-monthly bikini wax than willingly want to spend time with me.”

  “Okay, but you’ve still got Beth there and Travis...”

  “I don’t think I need to point it out to you how sad and desperate it is that the only people I can get to spend time with me are my brother and his girlfriend, right? She might be my best friend but they’re...ugh, so lovesick all the time, and I’m tired of third-wheeling, especially since...”

  “Right, I should probably send them a gift soon.”

  “Don’t worry, I already got them a reservation at Le Bernardin from the two of us and a spa weekend in Montauk so we’re covered.”

  He whistles. “Damn, getting engaged has its perks.”

  So yes, that happened. My brother finally proposed to the love of his life two weekends ago, and it’s been as amazing as you would expect. I’m currently in the process of throwing them an engagement party but the bride-to-be, Megan, and I cried enough over Skype when she called to let us know.

  But that’s a story for another day.

  “Right, so I’ve very rudely left your brother waiting in the living room. Will you please stop throwing a tantrum and accept the fact that we’re just two old friends hanging out?”

  “I’m not happy about it.” He practically grunts. “But...it’s nice to know that you’re not alone, even if ass face is there to keep you company.”

  Am I as pathetic as how that made me feel?

  Chin up, Tessa, chin up.

  “So you promise to be civil about all of this?”

  “By civil do you mean I won’t hit him the next time I see him, or that I won’t hit him that hard?”

  I sigh. “Whatever it is that I can get you to actually do.”

  “Probably the latter.”

  “I’ll take that.”

  “Just...how regular of a thing is this going to be exactly?”

  “Cole, I’m hanging up and not answering your question. Focus on your exams, stop stressing over something that’s probably never, ever going to happen, and I’ll call you when you’re not in the mood to pick a fight.”

  He mutters something indecipherable under his breath and the line goes dead. Wonderful, I’ve got two-year-old Cole on my hands. I toss my phone on my bed knowing that he’s probably going to call back to apologize for his childish behavior soon, but he’s not the only one who gets to act like he s
till need Mommy to take him to the bathroom.

  “So, how awkward was that for you?”

  I walk into the living room and see Jay, barely balancing himself on the edge of the couch, his knee bouncing incessantly as he pretends to watch a highly engrossing documentary on termites.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Going to the fridge, I grab a beer for him and a Diet Coke for myself before settling down on the far end of the couch. He takes his beverage and downs it faster than I would consider healthy. Once he has some liquid courage, he turns to me with an earnest expression on his face.

  “I don’t want to cause problems between you and Cole.”

  Internally I scoff at the thought that he thinks he’s enough to cause any kind of problem in my relationship, but the smugness soon retreats when I realize that he in fact is causing some minor inconvenience. But that’s not his fault, it’s more to do with Cole still thinking he needs to pee on me and mark me as his territory.

  I wave off his concerns, “You’re not causing any problems, Jay.”

  “But we both know Cole isn’t okay with this.” He gestures between the two of us like we’re both naked and ready to go at it like wild animals. Both these brothers are making a casual acquaintance sound like something else, different and dirtier, and I’m not sure how I feel about being treated like this.

  “What exactly is ‘this’? What do you think is happening here that Cole might be concerned about?”

  I cross my arms across my chest and give him my best withering stare, and he cowers like a child who’s been caught sneaking in after their curfew.

  “I...I just meant that...it’s not what it sounded like.” He gulps. “We’re friends, right? I just didn’t think Cole was on board with the idea.”

  “Do I have a tag on me that says ‘Property of Cole Stone’? Because I don’t see it. Also, he was okay with sending you to check up on me while I was on my deathbed, he should be okay if we choose to eat cheap carryout and have Will Ferrell marathons because this is all that is.”

  He nods. “Agreed.”

  And that’s that.

  ***

  The next week at work is manic since we’re working on the social media campaign for next month’s issue. I didn’t know that December was such a big month for beauty, but hey, if people want to spend a small fortune on cute packaging and miniature lipsticks, then who am I to stop them? It’s also the last working day before Thanksgiving break and Amy’s been cracking the whip, literally and figuratively. The other day she smacked someone on the butt without worrying about a lawsuit, and since then I’ve kept out of her way, working away at my desk like a good little elf. I keep a countdown on my desktop, though, till the day I can go home, snuggle up in my childhood bedroom, and have Daddy take care of me.

  What can I say, I like to be doted upon.

  And in an even greater development, I just got the news that Cole will also be flying home. Initially we’d decided that I would go to him, but after the sheriff’s recent health scare, he’s decided to come home instead. Although I know that something else might be motivating him, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

  “So, what’re your plans for the holidays?”

  Work is winding down for the day and people are buzzing, given that the long weekend is so close. We’re all mostly done, laptops are powered off, bags are packed, and we’re just waiting for Amy to leave so that everyone can run out the doors.

  I mean I like my job, but there’s only so much time I can spend researching whether matte or pearlescent pastel polishes will be a hit for the summer. Come on people, just slap on whatever color the lady in the nail salon tells you will make you feel like a whole new person and get it over with, but market research demands that I dig deeper.

  But there’s one person still slaving away, head bent, typing furiously, hair piled up on top of her head and coffee cups piling up at the desk. I decide to intervene for my frenemy’s benefit because I don’t like the thought of her not looking forward to a holiday.

  Leila doesn’t answer my question, either because she hasn’t heard me or she chooses to ignore me, but I’m in a chipper mood today and a lot more determined to get an answer out of her. So I go to the office pantry and grab my peace offering from the fridge. I grabbed some cupcakes for her on my way back from lunch with the hope that we’d end things on a positive note before going home. I carry the box to her desk and place it next to her mounting coffee cups.

  She looks at the label, knowing that whatever the box contains comes from one of the best bakeries in the city that specialize in all that is decadent and heavenly sugary goodness. I see her licking her lips in anticipation so I put her out of her misery.

  “Peacekeeping cupcakes and they are as good as you probably think they are.”

  She looks at it even more hungrily.

  “You know I don’t eat carbs.”

  Her eyes suggest otherwise and I think if I look away even for a minute, she would probably gobble down a couple of slices.

  “It’s Thanksgiving, treat your body, Leila, treat yourself.”

  Gingerly she opens the box, like a child on Christmas morning who can’t quite believe that their parents gave in and bought them that ridiculously overpriced doll they’d been begging for. With eyes full of longing, she takes some of the icing from a chocolate cupcake on her fingers and licks it clean, and I think she might be having a religious experience.

  “Thanks, Tessa...for once I don’t have anything bitchy to say to you.”

  “Well, uh...I guess that’s a good thing. You’re welcome.”

  Happy with my good deed of the day, I nearly skip my way to my desk and begin packing away my things. In the background I hear her quiet voice, so low that I could’ve almost missed it.

  “Have a great Thanksgiving.”

  “You too, Leila, you too.”

  Who knew all it would take for her to be nice to me were cupcakes?

  ***

  Later that Wednesday night I find myself at a small hole-in-the-wall bar waiting for my best friend and soon-to-be sister-in-law to show up. Because of our work schedules, Beth and I don’t get to hang out as much as we’d like to. Her job requires her to spend a lot of time in Jersey, and I feel bad about asking her or Travis to come see me frequently. I could go to them but frankly, traveling alone in New York still scares the crap out of me. Plus, ever since the engagement, things have been crazy for the two of them, and I’ve only managed to meet them once since it happened. Now that we’re all going home and I’m throwing them their engagement party, I think we deserve to wind down and let loose.

  “So,” Beth waggles her eyebrows, engaged but never up to any good, “I hear you’re spending a lot of time with a certain ex-crush.”

  I roll my eyes because Jesus, how does word even get around? “He comes over every other weekend or we go out to catch a movie; it’s no big deal. It’s either spending time with him or braving the streets alone out of sheer boredom and maybe getting killed in an alley. Take your pick.”

  Okay, now I feel horrible for making Beth feel guilty about not being able to see me more often, because that’s not how I want to make her feel at all.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, that came out totally wrong. Jay and I are trying the whole fresh-start thing. He’s new here and I could use the company, that’s all. There are no feelings involved.”

  “Try telling that to your boyfriend. He and Travis gossip more than the old ladies in my neighborhood book club. I don’t know what they’re cooking up, but if I was Jay, I’d be scared for my life.”

  “Let’s not talk about dumb boys and the dumb decisions they take while high on testosterone. How’s the wedding prep going? You know I’m there for anything and everything you could need, right?”

  She grins, a huge smile taking over her face, and I swear ever since she’s gotten engaged, Beth’s been radiating with happiness. I’m so incredibly happy for her and my brother, thril
led that two people who make each other’s lives that much more perfect are tying the knot. Beth might be young, and I could never imagine getting married at the age we’re at now, but if there’s anyone that can pull it off, it’s her and Travis.

  The light catches the ring on her finger and I find myself admiring our family heirloom, filled with a deep satisfaction that my grandma’s ring is going to just the right person.

  “We...we both want it to be a small wedding. No frills, no faff, just us and our close friends and family. I know your mom and your grandparents might not be thrilled with the plans, but Travis and I both decided against having anything big.”

  “My mom doesn’t get a say and my grandparents are pretty low-key, they’ve never been vocal about our decisions. It’s your wedding, you do whatever you feel is right, and if anyone’s got a problem with it, they’ll have to go through me.”

  “And me,” a voice whispers close to my head, and I jump out of my seat, causing the barstool to topple down to the floor. Thankfully I’d placed my drink on the bar, otherwise it’d be all down my front.

  I whirl around and sure enough, he’s here.

  In all his deliciously disheveled glory, coat hanging off of one arm and a suitcase held in the other, it’s Cole right there in the flesh.

  “Oh My God.”

  I find myself saying that repeatedly before I hurl myself at Cole, climbing up his body and wrapping myself around him like a spider monkey.

  “How did you...what are you...Oh My God!” I hit his shoulder.

 

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