He flinches. “Doesn’t my apology mean anything?”
I toss my hands up just wanting this to be over with. “No, it doesn’t!” Why am I starting to feel like the bad guy here? “We’re over, Ty.”
“Please don’t say that, Em.”
“I’m saying it! We’re over!” I growl with exasperation. “Go find the girl who was sucking you off last night. Maybe she would be interested in a relationship, but I’m not.”
As difficult as it is, I keep my voice reined in. We’re standing in the parking lot next to Stella’s. Customers are coming and going. A few have thrown curious looks in our direction. The last thing I need is another scene involving Tyler. Especially at my place of employment. I glance at the building, willing to bet that Zoey has her face smushed against the window so she can get a first-person account of what’s going on.
Ugh.
“Neither of us were looking for a serious relationship when we got together. It was supposed to be light and easy.” And it was, up until last night. “Now it’s over. Accept it and move on.”
He leaps forward and grabs my hand again. “People make mistakes. Then they get back together and are stronger for working through the tough times. Why won’t you give me a chance to prove how much I care about you?”
I huff out a frustrated breath and pry my fingers from his grip. “I’m sorry, Ty, it’s never going to work between us. I can’t be in a relationship with someone I don’t trust.” I pause before adding the obvious, “And I don’t trust you. How do I even know this was the first time you hooked up with someone else?”
When a sliver of guilt flashes in his eyes, I realize how spot on the comment was. It only makes me feel like a bigger idiot for trusting someone who never deserved my confidence in the first place.
Men suck.
When Tyler opens his mouth to argue, I cut him off. “Don’t try to deny it, because I won’t believe you.”
His face falls as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Will you at least think about giving me another chance?”
Umm…
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head to add emphasis because he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots.
“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” he interjects quickly. “Take a few days to think about it.”
“I don’t need a couple of days. The answer is no!” I shout, losing my patience. “I don’t know how to make it any clearer! N-O! No!”
He lifts his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re angry, I get it. Once you cool off, I think you’ll realize what we had and change your mind.”
It’s like I’ve entered a parallel universe.
“And I think you’re out of your mind,” I snap.
He points a finger at me, his lips lifting into a smile. “I’m going to win you back, Emerson! Maybe I made a mistake, but people change. And I’m going to change for you!”
Oh my God, he’s totally delusional.
Did I somehow miss the warning signs when we were together?
“I don’t want you to change for me,” I yell, throwing my arms wide. “I just want you to move on with your life and maybe, the next time you get into a relationship, restrain yourself from cheating on them!”
He grins and walks backwards, holding my gaze the entire time. “I always knew you would make me a better man!”
What?
No! I have zero desire to make him a better man.
Enough is enough. I refuse to respond to this insanity.
“I love you Emerson Shaw!” he shouts like a complete lunatic.
I cringe as a few patrons stop and stare.
Noticing the onlookers, Tyler points to me. “You see that girl? I love her!” he shouts at the top of his voice. “I love her!”
Oh my God. I need to get out of here. Ignoring my crazy ex-boyfriend, I yank open the car door and slide inside. When Tyler disappears around the front of the building, I lay my head on the steering wheel.
Please tell me that I’ve hit rock bottom because I don’t think I can take much more of this madness.
Chapter Thirteen
Emerson
“Are you sure I can’t talk you into coming with me?” Brin asks while sliding chunky silver hoops through the pierced holes in her earlobes.
After the day I’ve had, there’s nothing she could entice me with to leave this apartment.
“Nope,” I say, settling on the couch in my pajamas with a big bowl of buttery popcorn, three blankets, and an icy cold Diet Coke. I’ve got the remote in one hand and I’m just about to cue up Gossip Girl.
Brin assesses her reflection in the beveled mirror that hangs over a small side table in the living room, making sure her hair and makeup are on point. “Yeah,” she sighs, touching up her glossy red lipstick, “I didn’t think so.”
My bestie knows me well. I grin and shovel an overflowing handful of popcorn into my mouth. “But I appreciate the effort,” I say while chewing.
Her face scrunches with disgust. “That’s gross.”
I shrug, not giving a damn.
“If you get lonely,” she cajoles one last time, “you can always blow off your pity party for one and join me.”
Not going to happen. I earned this pity party. My ass is staying glued to this couch for the duration. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be here when you get back.” I point to where I’m sitting. “Most likely in this exact spot.”
She tilts her head before shaking it. “That is so sad.”
Maybe. Maybe not. Staying in and taking a breather feels like the safest thing to do. There’s no chance I’ll run into Tyler. Or Reed. And I won’t have to field questions regarding my state of purity.
Not bothering with a response, I point the remote at the television and hit the power button. Ready to send Brin on her way, I make a shooing gesture with my hand. “No need to worry, mama. I’ll be fine. Go out and have fun.”
She huffs out an exasperated breath and heads for the door. “All right, all right.”
“Hey, Brin!”
The moment I say her name, she swings around in her almost-too-short dress that hugs every dangerous curve of her body. A hopeful expression sparks in her eyes. “Yeah?”
“Did I mention how smoking hot you look?”
A smile blooms across her face as she does a little twirl. “Why no—no you didn’t.” Then she blows me a kiss. “TTFN.”
“Right back at you.” I grin and throw a piece of popcorn at her. It falls about ten feet short. “Now get your sexy ass out of here and let me get this pity party underway.”
“Fine, I’m going,” she says with a wave before sauntering out of the apartment on sky-high heels.
As the door closes, silence settles around me. It’s a relief to be alone. I get a whole two minutes of peace before my phone chimes with a message. I scoop it off the cushion next to me and glance at the screen.
Ugh.
Tyler.
This must be the twentieth text he’s sent since I saw him at the restaurant five hours ago. They run the gamut from heart emojis, poems, and song lyrics. Like Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together and Sam Smith’s Stay With Me. And while I appreciate the effort, it’s not going to happen.
Unsure how to make him see the light, I scrub a hand tiredly over my face. Instead of responding, I set the phone face down on the cushion and press the play button on the remote, ready to settle into a marathon session of season one and two, which are—as any true fan knows—the best seasons.
A knock on the door rips me right out of my happy place and leaves me frowning. If it were Brin, she would use her key. Unless she forgot it. Or lost it. Because she does that. She repels small metal objects. It’s the damnedest thing.
A groan slides from my lips. What if it’s Tyler?
What if he stopped by because I’ve been giving him the silent treatment?
This is ridiculous.
I pause the show, jump off the couch, and stalk to the door. I almost hope it
is my ex-boyfriend. Then I can let loose and give him a piece of my mind. Maybe he thinks this borderline stalker behavior is cute, but I don’t. It’s pissing me off and I’m over it.
Not bothering to check the peephole, I yank open the door. “Seriously Ty,” I growl, “you need to stop harassing me!”
“It’s not Tyler.”
I blink as my brain plays mental catch up. All the anger that had been brewing in me like a storm drains as I stare at Reed in surprise.
“Hi.” Unsure how to react, I shift from one foot to the other, still gripping the door tightly with my fingers. “How did you get up here?”
It’s a lame question, but it’s all I can think to say. We didn’t exactly leave off on the best of terms this afternoon at the restaurant. Awkward tension is already gathering in the air between us.
He jerks his thumb toward the elevator. “I ran into Brin and she let me in.”
“Oh.” That sneaky bitch. I told her about Reed showing up at Stella’s and his brilliant idea about us dating. Naturally, she was on board with the plan. I made it perfectly clear to her that I’d nixed the idea and was irritated with Reed for even suggesting it. So, of course she lets him in and doesn’t bother giving me a heads up.
Silence descends and neither of us move.
Reed clears his throat, saving the situation from becoming dire. “Are you going to invite me in?”
I glance at my comfy nest of blankets on the couch before leaning against the door. Any other time, it wouldn’t even be a question. But our relationship has shifted and I’m not entirely sure where we stand with one another.
“I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” His eyes skim over the length of me as a smirk curves his lips. “Let me see if I can guess.” He pretends to contemplate the situation, but we both know that’s unnecessary. “You’re marathoning Gossip Girl and drowning your sorrows in popcorn.”
Am I that predictable?
Never mind. Stupid question.
I huff out a breath, unwilling to admit that his assessment is spot-on as usual. No one knows me better than Reed. “No, that’s not what I was doing. You think you’re so damn smart, don’t you?”
“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday night and you’re already in your Gossip Girl pajamas. Do I really need to point out that you only wear them when you’re upset and binge watching the show?”
I glance down at my choice of loungewear. He’s right, damnit. I’m wearing a white T-shirt that says—you know you love me Gossip Girl XOXO and matching plaid flannel bottoms. They were a gift from Reed a couple of years ago. I only wear them when I’m feeling blah and want to watch my favorite show to lift my spirits.
Can I help it if I’m a creature of habit and GG is my happy place?
When I scowl, he adds, “Plus, Brin told me that’s what you were up to.”
Brinley…
One of these days, that girl is going to get her ass beat. If she were a good friend, she would have told Reed that I was busy. Instead, here he is. At my door. Wanting to crash my pity party for one.
“Fine,” I grumble, reluctantly stepping away from the door and holding out my arm with a flourish. “Come in.”
“Wow,” he mocks, “so welcoming.”
I snort as he strolls past me.
It’s strange. Our apartment always feels so spacious. Unless Reed is here. Then it shrinks around him, making the space feel small and cramped. Once he’s inside, I lock the door and trail after him.
He glances at the couch and the mound of blankets. “Hibernation starts soon, huh?”
I roll my eyes. “Ha-ha, very funny.”
He shrugs as a grin simmers around the edges of his lips. It makes him look even more handsome. A kernel of desire pings in the pit of my belly and I shove it away before it can take root.
“I try,” he quips.
“And fail.”
“Please,” he chuckles, taking a seat on the couch. “I’m hilarious and we both know it.”
“You are so full of yourself,” I mutter before waving a hand in his direction. “Go on, make yourself at home. Don’t be shy.”
“Thanks, I will.” He pats the spot next to him. “Take a load off. I didn’t mean to interrupt your plans.”
I raise a brow before carefully settling next to him, making sure to leave enough space between us. “Didn’t you?”
He jerks his shoulders as my phone chimes with another message. I’m kicking myself for not turning off the ringer. I’m not interested in any more songs or poems or pleading texts.
Reed pounces on my cell before I have a chance to grab it.
“That’s called quick reflexes,” he says with another flash of perfectly straight teeth.
“No, what it’s called is an invasion of privacy,” I shoot back. “There’s a difference.”
“I don’t think so…” He turns over the phone before glancing at the screen. When his lips flatten, I know my suspicions regarding the identity of the texter are correct.
Since Reed knows my password—I really need to change that—he taps it in, opens up the message before skimming through all the other texts Tyler has bombarded me with today.
When Reed remains silent, I find myself admitting, “He showed up at Stella’s after my shift.” I wince, wishing I had kept my big mouth shut. I don’t want to make matters worse.
“Oh?” He arches a brow, his gaze locking on mine.
It takes effort to break eye contact. “He wants me to give him another chance.”
Reed shakes the phone still gripped in his hand. “Yeah, that’s pretty evident.” There’s a pause. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”
My body stiffens at the question. “Of course not.” The guy cheated on me and then humiliated me.
Not going to happen.
“Good,” Reed grumbles. “That guy never deserved you.”
The vehemence of his tone has my gaze snapping back to his. A warm, prickly feeling blooms in my belly.
Unsure how to respond, I shrug.
“Do you want me to have a convo with him?” His voice drops. “Make sure he understands that it’s over?”
Hell no. I don’t want Reed anywhere near Tyler.
“That’s not necessary. It’ll be fine.” Reed is operating under the impression that I need him to swoop in and fix all of my problems. I don’t. I’m more than capable of handling them myself.
His gaze sharpens on me until I grow restless, fidgeting under the heavy weight of it. “You’ll let me know if I need to intervene?”
I stare blindly at Blaire Waldorf who is frozen on the screen and mutter, “I can take care of myself, Reed.”
His fingers slip under my chin before turning it toward him. As soon as our gazes collide, awareness spikes through my veins.
He remains silent until he has my undivided attention. “I never said that you weren’t capable of handling yourself. I’m not going to let Tyler bother you when you’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re no longer interested. That’s what friends do, Em. They help each other out. You’ve never had a problem understanding that before.”
I swallow as nerves skitter along my spine. All of my senses feel heightened like they did last night. My tongue darts out to moisten my lips as my gaze drops to his mouth.
A groan rumbles up from Reed’s chest as tension crackles in the air between us.
Just when I think he might lean in for a kiss, he drops his hand from my chin and the connection is severed. Air leaks from my lungs. A mixture of relief and disappointment curl their way through me. But I’m not sure which one is stronger and that’s a problem.
Without a word, Reed picks up the remote from the couch and hits play. Everything inside me that had been coiled tight, slowly loosens.
“How about we watch a few episodes and then order a pizza? My treat.”
With that, everything between us slides back to normal.
Sort of.
“S
ounds good.” Needing something to busy my hands with, I grab the bowl of popcorn off the couch cushion.
It only takes a moment for me to get sucked into the Constance Billard School for Girls and St. Jude School for Boys. Tyler and all the havoc he caused fades to the background, but I’m never quite able to forget that Reed is sitting next to me.
Chapter Fourteen
Emerson
“Are people staring?” I whisper from the side of my mouth as my gaze darts around. “Because it feels like they are.” I pause for a beat, waiting for Brin to jump in and tell me that I’m crazy. When she doesn’t respond, I prompt, “I’m being paranoid, right?”
Brinley yawns as we troop across campus for our nine o’clock Monday morning class. Her eyes are barely open which is normal for this time of the day when she hasn’t been previously caffeinated. “Without question, you’re paranoid.”
“You didn’t even look,” I grumble as my gaze gets snagged by a girl walking on the path toward me. Most people glance away out of politeness when caught staring. This girl doesn’t. In fact, she snickers as we pass by one another.
The edges of my lips sink into a frown. I throw a glance back at the girl as my feet slow. There’s no way that was my imagination.
“I don’t have to. I’ve always thought you were paranoid. You’re only confirming my suspicions.”
I jab my elbow in Brin’s side, and she chuckles before yawning again. “Can we please stop for coffee? My ass is literally dragging.” She points to the space directly behind her. “Can’t you see it on the ground? I’m never going to make it through the day without several caffeinated beverages. In fact, let’s just skip the drinks and go straight to the IV drip.”
Even though I should have known we’d have to make a coffee pitstop and planned accordingly, I didn’t. I had a difficult time falling asleep last night and didn’t hear my alarm this morning. I pull my phone from my pocket and glance at the screen. Brin is lucky that we’re miraculously ahead of schedule.
“It needs to be quick,” I say, caving in.
“Thank you, baby Jesus. It’s doubtful I would have made it five more steps,” she says, sounding as though she might collapse from lack of cold pressed java beans.
Just Friends Page 8