“Yup.” My answer was just that one word and I delivered it just before I took a long swig of my drink.
Her eyes narrowed, but the corner of her lip quirked up, clearly trying to hide a smile.
“Is that why you go to basketball games so often? To unwind from your taxing work schedule?”
I laughed softly, inwardly celebrating that Hadley had kept track of at least one part of my schedule. The fact that she knew Camden had frequently taken me to Renegades games before he met Riley was a point in the win column.
“I work long hours, so yes, I feel like I deserve those games. But, to be honest, I haven’t been to as many since Riley came along. They met in the middle of basketball season and my games were few and far between.”
“Poor baby,” she crooned, mock sympathy dripping from her words.
“Hey, we both probably lost a lot of best friend time when they hooked up. And from what I’ve been told, that’s your fault.”
“Me?” she exclaimed, laughing the word out.
“Weren’t you the one who gave him her last name?”
“Ah, yes. Guilty, I suppose. And I have lost a lot of Riley time, but it’s been worth it to see her so happy.” Her voice became wistful and soft, as did her eyes. In the tiniest, infinitesimal fractions, she was slowly opening up to me, letting me see her with less and less of a shield.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Their happiness is pretty potent.”
“Right?” She laughed again and my fingers itched to reach out and touch her hand, or run through her hair, anything. Any contact would do.
“Do you guys want to order anything to eat? Or would you like another round?” Our waiter’s words snapped us both out of the conversation and I would have paid him to disappear, but surprisingly Hadley lifted her glass just slightly.
“I’ll take another,” she said sweetly, but the flirty tone she’d used earlier was gone.
“Me too,” I added. “Want something to eat? It’s about dinnertime. My treat.”
She looked at me for a moment, seeming to weigh her options, but then relented and picked up the happy hour menu table-topper. After a few short moments she said, “I’ll take the Aloha Sliders.”
“I’ll take an order, too,” I said, giving our waiter a polite nod.
“I’ll get your drinks right now and bring the food as soon as it’s ready,” he said, then walked toward the bar.
“You’re a copycat,” Hadley said after he was out of earshot.
“It’s not my fault you keep ordering the best things on the menu.”
She laughed but didn’t say anything more, just fidgeted with her straw some more, swirling it around, the ice clinking against the glass. The silence between us, although it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable at that point, made me nervous and it was desperation that forced out my next words. “I had a really great time with you in Vegas.”
It became immediately obvious my words had been a mistake. The wall I’d watch her slowly let down in the last half hour was instantly back in place, just as high and impenetrable as before. Her shoulders went back, spine straight, and her smile disappeared.
“That can’t happen again.”
“Which part?” The words slipped out before I even realized I’d said them.
“All of it.”
“Listen, the way I see it, there’s no harm in hanging out. I’m not asking for you to move in with me or introduce me to your parents. Why can’t we just go out on a date—a real date—and see what happens?” I watched as she shut down further, her arms crossing over her chest, back pressing into the seat behind her.
“I don’t date.”
“You don’t date?”
“No. I go out. I meet people. I go home with them. Which, I might remind you, is what happened in Vegas.”
“It was a little more complicated than that,” I started, but she jumped in before I could continue.
“No. It was Vegas. We were drunk. Drunken hook-ups are what Vegas is famous for.”
“Drunken hook-ups?”
Her eyes looked around at anything but me and she drawled out the word, “Yeah… drunken hook-ups. One-night stands. No-strings-attached sex.”
“That’s what you think happened in Vegas?” How could we both have such different views of what had transpired between us?
“Listen, Justin,” she began, relaxing a little, her clasped hands coming to rest on top of the table, but far enough from mine to make it clear she didn’t want me touching her. “Vegas was a mistake. I don’t make a habit of hooking up with people I’ll be forced to see afterward. I almost made that mistake at the gala, but it was obvious you didn’t want a one-night stand, so I walked away. Had I been sober in Vegas, I probably would have walked away again. I love Riley and I can’t risk making things uncomfortable. We’ll be seeing each other a lot now that our best friends are married. Do you want it to be awkward? Let’s just pretend it never happened and move on.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear but wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Her words were sure and firm, and I knew she thought she was putting on a good show. Her practiced and polished façade of being untouchable and unmoving was almost convincing, but I knew there was more to what she was saying, a deeper level she wasn’t unearthing. Yet. This wasn’t worried about being awkward around each other—things were only awkward when she was withholding herself from me. Both physically and emotionally. My mind immediately flashed back to Vegas when, for one night, Hadley was unencumbered, flying high, and living life. Most importantly, she had let me in, let me past the wall I was currently up against. I couldn’t figure out what the difference was between that night in Vegas and any number of nights we could have here in Portland. A piece of the puzzle was missing.
There were a few things I was sure of in that moment: Hadley believed every word she said, she wasn’t telling me the whole story as to why she wanted to leave things between us as just friends, and I was going to do everything in my power to convince her we were better off together.
“Wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” I answered coolly.
A weak smile crossed her face and then the waiter set down our second round.
“Should only be a few more minutes until the sliders are done.”
“Thanks,” I said with a nod.
Hadley gave him a weak smile and he turned, making his way to the table next to us.
“We can be friends, right?” Hadley asked, her voice soft and unsure.
“Sure. We can be friends.”
I wasn’t sure if she believed me, but then again, I wasn’t trying to convince her. I didn’t even believe myself.
Chapter Seven
Hadley
Justin held the door open for me as we left Hale Pele and I tried to give him a smile as I walked past him, but it probably came across more like a grimace.
The day had gone downhill pretty quickly. In fact, as soon as I saw Justin in that house I should have left. At least that way I could have avoided all the weird vibes.
The first time I’d met Justin it had been at a bar and I was joining Riley as she met Camden for a quick beer. The two of them had been completely in their own bubble and I’d sat across from Justin and flirted shamelessly. Who wouldn’t have? He was one of the sexiest men I’d ever laid eyes on. Hands down the best flirter, too. He was charming and just the right amount of dirty.
When we’d kissed at the gala I knew he’d be a fantastic lay. Seriously, the guy could kiss. It was like his superpower. Entertainment lawyer by day, The French Kisser by night, saving the world one sexy kiss at a time.
As he walked me to the monstrosity that was his vehicle it occurred to me again—trust me, I’d thought about it a lot—that I’d slept with him and couldn’t even remember it. It was my own fault, what with the drinking and blacking out, but the universe could have cut me a little slack and let me remember the one time I slipped up and allowed myself to have sex with him.
On the other hand, maybe it was
a blessing. If I didn’t remember it, I couldn’t play it over and over in my mind, thinking about how fantastic it was.
No, it was better this way.
Oblivious.
“You know, I think I’ll just take an Uber.” I stopped on the sidewalk, unwilling to spend any more painfully awkward and uncomfortable, tension-filled minutes with Justin. It was torture being so close to him. Tamping down the urge to touch him, trying to act as though I didn’t want him. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Thank you, again, for the drinks and dinner. It was fun.”
“Hadley—ˮ
“No, really, it’s fine. I have to go back to the office anyway and finish some stuff up, then I’ll just take the train home. But I appreciate the offer for a ride.”
He was silent for a moment and we just stared at each other. Finally, he let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped. “Will you text me when you get home safely?”
“Sure,” I lied.
“Hadley,” he warned.
“Justin, listen, I know lines got blurred between us, and I really am happy we can be friends, but there are boundaries I keep in place for a reason. You took me out for dinner and drinks. That doesn’t mean I give up more than I’m comfortable with.”
“I didn’t mean to imply you owed me anything. I just want to know you’re safe.”
I put on my best stone-cold bitch face. “I navigate this city at night all the time. There’s nothing to worry about.”
He was silent, but eventually relented. He pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked his SUV.
“Have a good night, Had.” He hoisted himself into the driver’s seat and didn’t wait for a reply before he slammed his door and started the engine. It roared loudly and seconds later he was pulling into the street and driving away.
The visual of his SUV getting smaller and smaller was equal parts relieving and terrifying, and I fought against the tears prickling at the thought of pushing him away when I really only wanted to pull him closer. A tiny little voice in the back of my head whispered that he’d only let me push him away a certain number of times before he stopped coming back around. He would only take so much abuse, only put himself out there so many times before he eventually decided I was a lost cause.
And I totally was.
I just wasn’t entirely convinced I wanted him to realize that.
I let out a breath and turned, heading east toward the closest MAX station. I could have taken an Uber back to work, but the best part about my job was I could do it anywhere, including my own bed wearing my pajamas, so I headed home.
It was a typical evening ride on the MAX, along with the typical public transit crowd. There were the business people in their suits and jackets, the college kids with their heavy backpacks, the high school kids with their cell phones and selfies, and then a sprinkling of transients, tweakers, and drunk people.
My phone vibrated in my purse and I managed to pull it out without elbowing any nearby passengers. I saw Riley’s name on the screen and was immediately in a better mood.
“Hey, bitch,” I said in my most adoring voice. I purposefully ignored the looks a few women threw my way at the endearment.
“Hey, whore. What are you doing?”
“Just enjoying all the perks of being a city gal with no car.”
“MAX?”
“MAX.”
“Are you on the way to the house to water the grass?”
Shit.
“Indeed. That’s exactly where I’m headed.”
“Liar,” Riley replied with a laugh.
“Okay, it slipped my mind. But I haven’t passed your stop yet, so I’ll make a detour.”
“Slipped your mind? Nothing ever slips your mind.”
Another sigh escaped me.
“I’ve been a little pre-occupied today.”
“With what?”
“Is this really how you want to be spending your honeymoon? Talking to me about my workday? Where’s your husband?”
“He went to the hotel gym. He tried to get me to go with him, but he doesn’t seem to understand that when I’m in vacation mode I develop gym allergies.”
“I thought that was just me. Good to know I’m not alone.”
“He’ll be down at the gym for at least an hour, so you’ve got my undivided attention. So, what happened that made you forget about my lawn?”
Honestly, there could have been a million things that made me forget her lawn—domestic I was not—but I told her what she wanted to know anyway.
“I got a call yesterday for a new client and when I went to do the consultation today Justin answered the door. Apparently, his mother was the one who called me.”
“Wow, small world.”
“Yeah. Tiny.”
“So what happened?”
“I measured and photographed his mother’s house and when I tried to leave he convinced me to get drinks with him.”
A few beats of silence were followed by, “You went on a date with Justin? Voluntarily?”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Did he pay?”
“I think that may have more to do with him being a gentleman than it being a date.”
“I think thou doth protest too much.”
I didn’t really have anything to say in response. She was right. The more I denied it, the guiltier I seemed. And, in truth, it had felt like a date. But instead of telling her that, I tried to deflect some more. “Why are you so focused on whether or not Justin and I end up as a thing? Shouldn’t we be more focused on how your honeymoon is progressing? What is a honeymoon like? Lord knows I’ll probably never end up having one.”
“Honeymoons are the shit, Had. Seriously. I haven’t gotten out of bed before ten a.m., I haven’t had to cook one single meal, and the drinks in pineapples and coconuts are seriously the best marriage perks ever.”
“And of course there’s all the sex, I assume.”
“Hashtag, all the sex. Hashtag, best sex ever. Hashtag, married sex is hot.”
“Hashtag, barf.”
“Hashtag, jealous.”
“Oh, look, I’m at my stop. I should probably let you get back to all the sex you’re having.” I only counted three dirty looks as I exited the train.
“I’m not done talking to you,” Riley said, new authority ringing in her voice. “Tell me about the date with Justin.”
The thing about Riley was she was like an elephant. She never forgot. I could try to distract her with shiny things and it would work for a while, but she always found her way back to what she was really aiming for.
“He took me to this bar called Hale Pele and we had themed drinks and sliders.”
“Did you have a good time?”
I thought about her question, then thought about the past two hours of my life. “It was fun. Then it wasn’t. Such is most of my interactions with Justin.”
“You know he just wants to be with you, right? Just wants you to give him a chance. I’ve never seen you this adamant about not being with someone. You’re usually more open to experiences than this. What’s the deal?”
That was Riley’s nice way of saying that I was usually sluttier, but she didn’t know everything. No one did.
“You mean I’m quicker to jump in the sack with people.”
“No judgment,” she replied quickly. “You know I’ve never had a bad word to say about your sex life. If anything, I was in admiration of it. So don’t try and turn this around on me. What is up with you and Justin?”
Damn it.
The city streets were busy, but all I could hear was the thumping of my heart and my heels on the pavement. Riley gave me the few moments I needed to compose my thoughts and I knew she’d listen when I finally spoke.
“What if things between Justin and me got serious? What if we started seeing each other, fell in love, and then everything got fucked up? What then? I don’t want to risk making things uncomfortable. I don’t want to have to worry about whether he’s going to be at y
our house before going over. I don’t want any weirdness. And I just kind of feel like I could fall in love with Justin.”
“What if you never give him a chance and never get to experience love?”
“Shut up, Riley.”
“If my hypothetical is ridiculous, so is yours.”
“Mine isn’t hypothetical—it’s a valid concern. This isn’t just some Schmoe off the street. Not some dude I met at a bar. He’s your husband’s best friend. I could never just remove him from my life. He’d be there. Like, forever.”
“Do you know how many people set their friends up on dates? People date their friend’s friends all the time. I think you’re putting too much thought into this. It doesn’t have to be so heavy and dramatic.”
She obviously didn’t realize how heavy and dramatic my feelings for Justin were, or how deeply my fear was rooted inside of me. But that was my fault, after all. I’d never explained it to her. But I knew I could never just date Justin. I could only fall hopelessly, endlessly, and irrevocably in love with him. For fuck’s sake.
She also didn’t know we’d hooked up in Vegas. I hated that Riley didn’t know everything. Or, rather, that I hadn’t told her everything. I wasn’t used to keeping secrets from her, but I also wasn’t ready to talk about being with Justin and what it meant. If I didn’t talk about it, it never happened. Or something like that.
“I will never deny being a tad dramatic,” I said, trying to bring some levity to the conversation.
“Good. That’d be like if I denied being organized.”
“Or crazy.”
She laughed. “Right.”
We were both quiet for a while until Riley finally spoke again. “How far until you get to my fancy new house?”
“About two blocks.”
“I’ll stay on the line with you. Like in college. Make sure you don’t get jumped.”
My heart warmed at the memory. I also cringed at my stupid college self for ever believing that being on the phone would deter an attacker.
“Thanks.”
“Safety first.”
A few minutes of mindless chatter about Hawaii and how better than Portland it was, and I found myself in front of Riley’s house. And she was right. It was fancy.
Had Enough Page 7
