by Portia Moore
“I don’t regret what happened but maybe it shouldn’t have,” I tell him reluctantly but his smile doesn’t waver.
“You are the most frustratingly stubborn person I’ve ever met,” he says with a laugh.
“I am, so you shouldn’t even bother.” I cover my face with my hands.
“I didn’t used to be like this,” I continue, disgusted with myself. “I always knew what I wanted and wasn’t afraid to have it, but now I can’t decide on anything.”
“You already know what you want. I’m just waiting on you to figure out that you can have it.” He leans down and kisses me softly on the cheek. I lean into him and close my eyes, wanting to stay here for as long as I can, but then it’s over. I watch him swagger down the street to his car, wishing I wasn’t so screwed up and could go with him.
When I go back into the house Brad has disappeared, most likely into Parker’s room, and she’s cleaning up our wine glasses and half- eaten pizza.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she scolds me and I roll my eyes before closing the door.
“I’m staying here, if the offer’s still open,” I laugh.
“You know what I mean! Why didn’t you go with him?”
“Because, I wanted to hear all about your proposal, tell me everything.” She can’t help but smile widely at me but then shakes her head.
“I will, but first you. What the hell happened? He’s so cute and he seems like a sweetheart,” she gushes.
“He is, that’s not the problem. No, it’s exactly the problem. He’s this gorgeous, sweet, nice guy. And you know what happens with me and guys like that.”
“Don’t you dare compare him to Ryan. You were with Ryan for a year and a half and I’ve never seen you look at Ryan the way you look at him.”
I roll my eyes. “And how exactly do I look at him?”
“Like you can’t believe your luck and you’re terrified of it.”
I gulp.
“I don’t deserve Alex, and I will inevitably mess it up, or he will, so what’s the point?” I throw my hands up in frustration.
“Madison. That’s what love is about! It won’t ever come with a guarantee, even with this.” She points to her ring and can’t help but grin at it.
“You’re so confusing, Mads. You get with men who you feel safe with either because you don’t love them or you know they don’t love you, and it’s such self-sabotage. Why are you so afraid of feeling something real?!” She’s lecturing me and I have no defense.
“I don’t know but until I figure it out I shouldn’t experiment with people’s feelings,” I say quietly.
“And have you told him that?” she asks.
“In so many words,” I squeak.
“No you haven’t. Alex is a grown man. Be honest with him and let him decide. Stop making decisions on your own that involve other people. It’s not fair to them or to you. Relationships—even platonic ones—are about being a part of a team, with open communication. It’s not you trekking through it alone.”
I look at her and wonder when my superficial crazy fun friend became this mature levelheaded woman. Did everyone grow up and start making smart decisions and receive a box of wisdom on their birthday except for me?
“Tell me all about the proposal,” I implore, squeezing her hand. She explains how they were at his family’s summer house and all of his family was there. She was nervous because it was her first time meeting them. While she had butterflies in her stomach at how beautiful his mom’s birthday dinner was, it turns out it wasn’t her birthday, but a dinner for her put together for his proposal. After she said yes her parents came in and it was beautiful.
I’m more than a little miffed that me—her best friend—wasn’t invited, but she says Brad told her it was because he didn’t know if I could keep a secret. I give him that since he doesn’t know much about me, and decide to make it a priority for us to get to know a little more about each other since he’s making my best friend his wife. She wants us all to go out to brunch next week and suggests that I bring Alex, of course.
I tell her we’ll see.
“And, there’s one other thing. He’s putting his apartment on the market and is going to stay here until we find a place together.”
“You’re kicking me out?” I pout but it’s with no malice at all. She swats my thigh.
“Of course not, you’re my best friend and you’re barely here anyway. I just didn’t want you to look up and see Brad coming out of the bathroom in a towel or something and wonder why. You can stay as long as you want Mads,” she tells me sincerely, and I know that she means it but there is no way in hell I’m staying with pre-newlyweds.
“I was planning on leaving at the end of the month anyway. I’ve made a little over five grand, which should be plenty,” I tell her and she frowns.
“Are you sure? I’d feel terrible if you go back sooner than you’re ready.”
“Parks, I’m ready. This was never meant to be permanent, just a stepping stone. You let me stay here for two months rent-free—and not just anywhere in your beloved New York—but in your gorgeous apartment. I feel like Samantha all sex in the cityish with a lot less money and no sex.” I laugh at the last part bitterly.
“I have a feeling the no sex thing was by choice since it seems like you’ve had a willing candidate for quite some time now.”
I fiddle with one of my braids.
“Well anyway, you go and give your fiancé some of the best sex of his life and I’m going to get some sleep since I’m working a brunch tomorrow.”
“Okay. I love you Mads,” she tells me and we hug. I can honestly say I love her too.
Thirteen
“You’re moving back to Chicago?” The disappointment and confusion on Alex’s face obscures his gorgeous features, almost making a tear come to my eye, but I don’t let him see that. I came in early to help him set up for the brunch.
“It was time anyway. I made the money I said I would make and Parker and Brad need their privacy,” I tell him while shining my tenth silver spoon.
“Everyone's getting engaged. John better hurry the hell up or I just might take someone’s rich grandfather up on their offer,” mutters Elice, another waitress we work with, and I laugh at her.
“But you weren’t talking about yesterday?” he asks, his voice lowering, his expression tight.
“It has nothing to do with that,” I say tightly. Casey glances between the two of us curiously. She knows that we’ve become friends and joked about us doing it but this little coded argument isn’t doing anything but rousing her suspicions.
“Shouldn’t it have something to do with it?” he says, pleading.
“Elice I’m going to go and get forks, come with me,” Casey insists. Elice nods and they both leave, giving us privacy two friends shouldn’t need.
“Do you want to leave?” he asks closing the gap between us.
“It’s not about what I want. I’m indifferent, it doesn’t really matter to me. But I can’t eat into the money I saved by renting in New York.”
He looks at me knowing I’ve made a valid point.
“You look like you’re going to miss me,” I point out with a small smile, wanting him to give me one, but he doesn’t. I take a breath and demand that I stop holding everything in and just say what I want for once. Resurrect a part of the old Madison who said whatever she felt.
“I’ll miss you,” I tell him. His brows lift and the hint of a smile appears on his face.
“Do you like cats?” he asks, and I frown at him.
On our lunch break we’re supposed to get Chinese, but Alex insists on us eating his leftover pizza and I think after last night, pizza just might not be our thing. I’m surprised when we end up in front of a large brick building. It looks old and when we head in it’s a warehouse-style elevator. I’ve never been to Alex’s before since it’s in Jersey but since it’s my last week I don’t have to worry about getting fired, according to Alex, and Casey said she’ll cov
er for me. So I made the trek with him. When the elevator leads out to a beautiful loft-style apartment, my mouth falls open.
It’s big with exposed brick and dark wood beams, and is strangely exactly the type of place I pictured Alex living in, only a lot larger.
“This is amazing, Alex,” I whisper as I take it all in. I’m guessing Alex’s tips are triple what mine are.
“Thanks,” he says easily. He walks towards the kitchen area, which there isn’t much to aside from a counter, stove, fridge, and card table with folding chairs. The living room area has a black leather sectional with a 60-inch TV at the center. You can tell this place was definitely decorated by a man.
“So Alley isn’t exactly friendly,” he tells me reluctantly.
“Who’s Alley?” I ask confused. I look over and see a black Tabby across the room eyeing me as if to say Who is this bitch?
“Do you mean she hides from people or bites, scratches, and hisses?” I ask amused.
“More the hissing type,” he explains, but he goes over to her and picks her up like she’s a harmless teddy bear.
“She likes you?” I chuckle.
“She doesn’t like girls,” he explains. Me and Alley lock eyes.
“Most guys I know aren’t cat people,” I mention, watching Alley bask in his love. I pictured him with some sort of big slobbery dog, or a gorgeous but dangerous pit bull.
“I wasn’t, she was kind of inherited.” I set down my bag on the table.
“I love cats,” I inform him, approaching. He hesitates, stepping back.
“Put her down Alex, trust me,” I tell him. He reluctantly does and she sits down. I tut my tongue and rub my fingers together. She watches me for a while, approaching me slowly. He’s behind her as if he’ll snatch her up the moment she pounces, but she doesn’t. She smells my fingers before rubbing against my leg.
“See, you were exaggerating.” I roll my eyes as I pick her up. He looks at me almost flabbergasted.
“That’s never happened before!” he says in awe.
“Me and cats understand one another,” I tell him as Alley snuggles up against my chest and purrs. She’s so adorable.
“She chased the last girl here around the apartment.”
“Was she a bitch?”
He gives me a scolding eyebrow arch. I put Alley down.
“This better be the best pizza ever,” I remind him of why we’re here.
“Yeah, let me show you something.” He gestures with his head for me to follow him. I do with Alley running in front of me. We end up in a room a little bigger than mine back home and much smaller than Parker’s, with a desk, chair, and laptop.
“Your office?” I ask, confused.
“It could fit a full-size bed,” he says. I whip around to see him leaning in the doorway, his hands in his pockets.
“You’re not…” I trail off.
“Offering you the room if you want it,” he says with a shrug as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“You’re not asking me to live—”
“Room with me,” he corrects me quickly with a chuckle. “It’d help us both.”
“Alex, I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You’re not asking me anything. I’m offering you a room. A hundred a week.” He shrugs. This place is worth way more than a hundred a week and I have a feeling he’s only asking for rent so I won’t feel like a charity case. He could easily rent this out and have someone pay half the actual rent.
“No, it’d be too weird, and I’d be intruding on you…and, it just…it’s crazy,” I ramble.
“Why? You need a place to stay. You could save money here. You say New York isn’t permanent, only another month or two right?” he reminds me of my earlier words.
“You really want me to be your roommate?” I ask him unsurely. Is he serious? Like us staying together in the same apartment?
“I’m not asking you to marry me,” he says with a dazzling smile.
“Just...just to stay,” he says quietly, which makes my heart warm.
“Two weeks. We can try it for two weeks,” I say and he smiles like he’s just won the lottery.
“You’re moving in with a guy you’ve known for what, two months?” Melissa asks in only the way she can that makes you feel like an idiot.
“I’m going to be his roommate. He’s super sweet, and kind, and he’s my friend,” I proclaim confidently.
“How much are you going to be paying in rent?” she asks in a motherly tone.
“$300 a week,” I lie.
“That’s eating into what you’re making.”
“Okay, a hundred a week,” I admit. She gasps.
“He’s letting you stay in his apartment in New York for only a hundred dollars a week?” she asks skeptically.
“Jersey,” I correct her.
“He’s either an idiot or you’re screwing him.”
“He’s not and I’m not. I want to take things slow from now on.”
“Take things slow with your friend?” she reminds me condescendingly.
“Jesus, Mel. I’m trying to do the right thing and you’re screwing my head up. You want me to just come and crash with you again and be depressed and cry?”
“God no, but I want you to be okay. I want you to be a functioning adult. Is that too much to ask?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m functioning. And I’m an adult,” I counter.
“Are you coming home to see Mom next month?”
Shit, I forgot all about that.
“Yes, the answer is yes you are. They have flights on sale now for $70 round trip.”
“Fine,” I mutter.
“And bring your friend, I’d like to meet this one,” she says and I frown at her.
“You may like to boss me around, Sis, but not everyone follows the orders you give.”
“Where is he? I want to talk to him.”
“He’s at work,” I tell her.
“Give me his number.”
“Mel, are you crazy?”
“No you are, and that’s why I need to make sure you’re not living with someone equally insane.”
“I’ll ask him,” I relent.
“Good. I’ll see you both next week then,” she says chipperly before hanging up.
“These are the best margaritas I’ve ever had,” Parker says, her eyes wide and lips red from her second margarita at Olito’s.
“These tacos are really good too,” Brad adds while diving into his. It’s satisfying to watch these people who spend hundreds of dollars on food say these $8 margaritas and $12 taco platters are some of the best food they’ve ever had.
“I knew you’d like them,” I say smugly. “I told you we have better food than you.” Parker sticks her tongue out at me.
“I could get Mexican food like this on almost every block in Chicago. You’ve been here for how long and have just now had Mexican this good?” I counter back.
“How long have you lived here Alex?” Parker asks.
“Going on six years. It’s my second home.”
“And where are you from?” Brad asks.
“Michigan.”
“Close to your neck of the woods right?” he continues.
“Brad hasn’t been to Chicago. I told him he’s not missing anything,” Parker says with a wink.
“I will not keep sitting here for my city’s slander,” I tell them, starting to feel a small buzz envelop me. The warmth of Alex’s arm around me makes me even more lightheaded. He’s sitting so close to me in the booth. I wonder why this feels so right?
“This is your city as of now. I hope it’ll be permanent. Much props to getting my friend to stay a little bit longer,” Parker tells Alex and he squeezes my knee. I ignore the goosebumps.
“Technically Jersey isn’t New York is it?”
“It’s close enough,” Alex tells me, bumping me sideways.
“How did you guys meet?” Alex asks them.
“A blind date.”
“It h
appened by accident though,” he continues.
“Not an accident—fate. His friend Matt had a girlfriend whose friend was supposed to come and she didn’t, so he asked what I was doing that night. I sort of thought he was asking me out but then he told me his best friend was joining him and his girlfriend and asked if I wanted to go for dinner. It was at a restaurant I hadn’t tried yet and I thought, what the hell,” she explains.
“And here we are.” Brad takes her hand in his and kisses it.
“And how long have you guys known each other?” Alex asks.
“Eight months. When you know, you just know.” Parker takes his face in her hand and kisses him. I can’t help but glance at Alex and I get butterflies when he takes my pinky under his and squeezes it.
“This has been the easiest move I’ve ever been a part of,” Alex says carrying my duffel bag and two roller suitcases into his loft. I follow behind him still in disbelief that I’m doing this. I’m moving in. Well, not moving in. I’m renting a room for him for a little while, probably not even a month. It’s not an official move-in like me and Ryan did. It’s just a mutually beneficial situation that works. He just happens to be an insanely hot guy that I really like with amazing eyes and a killer body, who also gives me butterflies. That’s all.
Yeah, this was a great idea.
“Well, I told you I came here with just the clothes on my back,” I say jokingly. Alley comes out from her corner and rubs against his leg greeting him with a meow.
“Hey girl,” he says, giving her a pat on the head. I follow him to what is now my room. Except it looks completely different than it did when I first saw it last week. Now it has a full-size bed with white bedding, the desk in the corner with the laptop is gone, and there’s a white dresser and curtains.
“I’m not good at decorating or anything so you can change whatever you want,” he says with a shrug. I look at him in disbelief.
“I can’t believe you did this.” I’m touched by his thoughtfulness. It’s still surreal. Just looking at him you’d swear he was this self-absorbed bad ass guy that doesn’t give a shit about anything, but he’s actually a total sweetheart.
