“Sorry for putting it all so bluntly,” she continues. “But therapy has really helped me see that running from my past, or hiding it, or lying to myself or anyone else about it doesn’t do anything but hurt me. So, I’m embracing it. All of it. It’s all led me here, and… all things considered?” I smile. “I’m pretty happy.”
“I’m glad you’re in therapy,” I say earnestly. “And I’m glad it’s helping. But… I still don’t understand how you could scare Gavin. Isn’t he in therapy, too?”
“I think everyone should be in therapy,” she says with a laugh, and I have to chug half my beer to keep myself from boiling over at the memory of the fight Gavin and I had over this same topic at Friendsgiving.
Purely because I was pissed when I saw him there with Erin, if I were being honest with myself.
“I just… I might have rushed some things between us…” She bites her lip, shaking her head. “I feel weird talking about this with you.”
“Why?” I reach over, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Come on, Ex. It’s me. You don’t have to feel weird or sugarcoat anything.”
“I know, but…”
“Just spill it.”
She chuckles. “Alright… well, on Valentine’s Day, I wanted to… um… to go all the way with him.”
Her cheeks flush so furiously that I chuckle a bit despite the way my stomach bottoms out at her admission.
“But he stopped us. And really, he had good reason. He’s being respectful to what I’ve been through, and he knows I haven’t… um… you know… with anyone else… since…” She waves her hand around. “Anyway, so he stopped it, and we cuddled and everything, and I felt fine when I left the next morning. But ever since then, he’s been distant. I mean, I haven’t seen him for more than a mid-day lunch.”
God, I want to punch him.
I want to literally find him and knock him the fuck out.
But then again, I kind of want to shake his hand and thank him.
Because although I don’t like the thought of him so much as laying a finger on Erin, I respect the hell out of him for taking things slow. Even when Erin said she was ready, he knew she wasn’t.
I still hate him, but I’m thankful to him at least for that much.
I force a breath, taking a sip of my beer before I say, “Well, I know it hurts to be rejected like that. Even if it was for good reason. And I don’t like that he’s being kind of distant, but it might be that he has something else going on, something entirely unrelated.”
“He has been really busy with school,” she admits. “It’s his last semester in the graduate program.”
“I’m sure that’s very intense.”
She sighs and nods, but I can see the hurt on her face as she takes a sip of her beer.
“Erin, look at me.”
For the longest time, she keeps her eyes on her glass, but then those warm brown irises finally find mine.
“Gavin is a good guy,” I say, even as my chest tightens with the words. “He cares about you. I could see that much after just one hour at Friendsgiving, and I saw it again when I ran into you downtown. And as much as I know it hurt, I’m glad he turned you down.”
Erin laughs a little, though her eyebrows pinch together. “Well, that’s kind of harsh.”
“No, no,” I say with a laugh of my own. I reach over to grab her hand, folding her fingers over mine. “I just mean that he’s right. You have been through a lot, and I think taking it slow is the best move for both of you. The fact that he gives a shit about you enough to put your emotional well-being ahead of his hormones is pretty fucking impressive, honestly. Because he’s a man, Erin, and being one myself, I can tell you it took a lot of willpower to stop in that moment.” I pause, swallowing. “Especially because you are the most goddamn beautiful woman who has ever existed.”
Erin’s expression softens at that, and her eyes flick back and forth between mine. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“I do,” I say, throat tight. “And the craziest thing is that as stunning as you are, your beauty is the least interesting thing about you.”
Her eyes flood with tears, but they don’t fall, not even when her hand squeezes mine.
“You’re sensational, Erin. In every way. And Gavin knows that, too.”
Erin blows out a long breath at that, and to my dismay, she pulls her hand from mine so she can use both to wipe her cheeks before the tears fall too far. “God, I’m crying in a bar.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell anyone who asks that I just kicked your ass in air hockey.”
“Except it was me doing the ass-kicking.”
“Do you want a cover story or not?”
She chuckles, wiping the mascara from under her left eye before she smiles at me. “Thank you, Bear. I’m actually really glad we talked about this. I tried talking to Jess about it, but it wasn’t the same. You… you know more about me than anyone else in this world, I think. You’ve been here through so much.”
“And I’ll always be here,” I promise.
“Thank God for that.”
Erin and I share a smile, and then I stand, grabbing our empty cups. “I’ll refill these. And, hey, a word of advice?”
She nods.
“Tell the girls what happened to you. Tell them everything.” I shrug. “I know it’s hard, and I know you’re afraid of them judging you. But I promise, they won’t. They love you. And as much as I mean it that I’ll always be here, there are going to be times when you need your girls. And they can’t help you if they don’t know the whole story.”
Her eyes well up again, but she swallows back the emotion and gives me another smile. “Go get our refills so I can beat you at the next game.”
“Ha! Don’t bet on it, Ex. I don’t lose twice.”
I give her a wink, but before I can turn, she’s up out of her chair and in my arms.
She wraps herself all around me, her arms around my neck, hair in my face and body flush against mine as I stand there stupidly holding our empty cups.
“Thank you, Bear. Really.” She inhales a long breath and lets it go just as slowly, still holding me tight. “I love you.”
I go rigid at her words, at how fiercely I want to throw these cups across the room, take her face in my palms, and kiss her breathless until she feels just how much I love her, too.
But she’s not mine to kiss.
With a slow breath through my nose, I wrap her in a hug that’s not as good as I’d like with the cups in my hands. Still, I hold her, and smell her hair, and close my eyes against the emotion building in my chest.
“I love you, too,” I say.
And I do. More than she’ll ever know.
When she pulls away with her bright smile back in place, I die a little inside.
Because there’s a pit in my gut that tells me I’ve lost whatever small chance I ever had with this girl, and that I’ll never have my chance again. It’s likely that nights like tonight — where we hang out as just friends — is the most I’ll ever have.
I hate that truth.
I can’t stomach it.
I don’t know if I can survive it.
But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that even if it kills me, I’ll never leave Erin alone. I can’t.
So, I hold onto hope.
Because I’m a patient man.
And for her, I’ll wait forever if I have to.
“YOU’RE MAD.”
“I’m not mad,” I assure Gavin, hand too tight around my cell phone.
“You sound mad.”
“Well, I’m not exactly thrilled that you’re bailing on our date night… again…” I sigh. “But I’m not mad. I get it. School comes first. I would do the same if I were in your position.”
There’s a brief silence, and then Gavin says, “I really am sorry, Erin. I’ll make it up to you.”
I force a smile. “I know you will. But, for now, you better get going. Tell the group I said hey.”
“
Thank you for understanding.”
“Mm-hmm.” That sounds like you’re mad. “Always. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
The line goes dead instantly, and I sigh, letting the phone fall into my lap. I feel stupid now, all dolled up in my favorite faux-leather leggings and a top that shows more cleavage than I’m usually comfortable with. I even slapped on some red high heels and painted my lips to match.
And now, it’s Friday night and I have nowhere to go.
My heart squeezes in my chest, the same warning bell that’s been ringing ever since Valentine’s Day. I know it’s a busy semester for Gavin — that was the whole reason we did the trip over break. We knew I’d be busy with my first semester of law school and he’d be busy with his last semester of grad school.
Still, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s avoiding me after what happened.
Or rather, what didn’t happen.
Another sigh finds me, and I think about what Bear said, how he assured me that Gavin had my best interests at heart when he turned me down. And while I want to believe that, the bigger part of me screams that there’s something wrong with me, that he doesn’t want me, that I’m not desirable.
I’ve been trying to process everything with my therapist, and she’s told me it’s a great time to throw effort into dating myself. She encouraged me to fill my time when I’m not with Gavin, and to not overanalyze anything he says to me.
Trust him. Take his words for what they are instead of trying to make them mean something else.
As if it’s that easy.
I’ve been understanding, and I’ve been trying to let go of all the insecurities his rejection brought out in me. But it’s hard — especially on nights like tonight, when he bails on our plans last minute.
I’m still sitting on the couch with my phone in my hand when Jess blows through the front door.
“Job interviews are the fucking worst,” she huffs, slinging her purse over one of the hooks by the door before she promptly kicks off her heels. She plops down next to me with a groan. “I swear, if I have to answer one more question about my strengths and weaknesses, I’m going to pitch myself off our balcony.”
I chuckle. “Please don’t do that. Someone would have to clean up the mess and that’s not fair.”
That earns me a smile, and Jess sighs, letting her head loll to the side until she’s looking at me. She opens her mouth to say something, but then snaps upright, brows furrowed as she takes in my appearance.
“Damn, Ex,” she says with a low whistle. “Gavin is going to come on the spot when he sees your tits pushed up like that.”
I laugh, looking down at my cleavage. “The girls do look nice, don’t they?”
“I’ll say. You’ve got me questioning my sexuality.”
“Well, touch them if you want,” I say, flopping back with a huff. “Because otherwise, this entire outfit is going to waste.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrug. “Gavin had to cancel. Study group thing he forgot about.”
“Ex…”
“I know, I know,” I say, holding up my hands. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
Jess has to physically bite her lip to keep from asking me more questions, but then she claps her hands together and points a finger up at the sky. “That’s it. Adult Spring Break.”
I laugh. “What?”
“This is the perfect occasion. I’ve had a shit day of trying to convince people to hire me. You’ve been blown off by a stupid boy. And we haven’t gone out on the town together in way too long. So, let me get changed, and then we’re going to go fuck up downtown like we’re on Spring Break.”
“But you’re not in college anymore. And I’m in law school. Spring Break isn’t really a thing.”
“Well, tonight it is.” She pulls me up from the couch and smacks my ass. “Pack a flask in your purse and cancel any plans you have in the morning. Neither of us is sleeping tonight.”
Not even three hours later, I’m dancing on a bar stage with a man dressed in lederhosen.
I’m not really sure how we got here. We started with tequila shots at a bar across the street from our condo building, and then we just started hopping from place to place. Every time we’d enter a new bar, Jess would scream, “SPRING BREAK!” at the top of her lungs and then we’d promptly take another shot.
I lost count after the fifth one.
And as silly as it is, two grown ass women bar hopping like we’re still in college, it does feel reminiscent of Spring Break.
And it’s fun as hell.
The bar we’re at now has a live band playing German music, and there must be some sort of event because half the bar is dressed like it’s Oktoberfest. When Jess screamed our Spring Break entrance and we slammed another shot, we instantly caught the attention of a group of what had to be frat boys.
All of them dressed in lederhosen.
I don’t recognize any of them, so I assume they’re not from PSU. It is Spring Break time, so for all we know, they could be on vacation from Ohio.
Regardless, they bought our next round of shots, and now we’re on the stage next to the live band dancing like a bunch of hippies.
“This was the best idea ever!” Jess screams into my ear over the music. Then, she promptly grabs the man in the lederhosen behind her by the suspenders he’s wearing and starts dancing like a loon. It would be one thing if she was bumping and grinding on him, but she’s doing this weird humping motion with her hips, her tongue sticking out, and there’s absolutely nothing sexy about it.
Which makes me love the whole situation even more.
I mimic her, turning to face the guy behind me — who looks no older than nineteen, if I’m being honest with myself. But I don’t care. The tequila in my system makes it hard to care about anything, really.
He’s wearing this ridiculous black fedora-like hat with a red feather in it, and I pull it off his head and slap it on my own. He tries to grab my hips to pull me in closer for our dance, but I back away with a moonwalk and then promptly start pretending like I’m shopping for groceries around him.
Pick the item off the shelf.
Put it in the cart.
Do a little shimmy.
Repeat.
Jess is laughing so hard at me, she can barely stand straight, and lederhosen man seems intrigued. He starts shopping next to me, and then pulls out the lawnmower dance.
Back and forth, we trade off every awful dance style we can think of. I’m almost out of ideas when I remember one my dad used to do at weddings where he’d grab his ankle with one hand and the back of his neck with the other, and then proceed to pull his knee toward his face on a hop, and then knee back on a hop, over and over. I think he called it the funky chicken? Mom always called it his aneurysm dance.
Regardless, now is the perfect time to whip it out.
I reach for my ankle and get my other hand in place behind my neck, and then in what has to be the worst timing ever, lederhosen boy turns toward me and reaches like he’s going to pull me in for a kiss.
But with me mid-dance move, instead of a kiss, he gets a knee to the balls.
He stumbles back with a groan, but in the process, he’s grabbed ahold of my hips and is taking me with him. I know he’s in pain, which is likely why he doesn’t hear his friend’s warnings that he’s dangerously close to the edge of the stage. There’s a windmill of arms and a desperate attempt from me to try to keep us balanced, but it’s no use.
We tumble off the stage to a chorus of ooohhh!
The first thing I realize is that I should be in more pain than I am after falling off a stage. The second thing I realize is that the reason I’m not in pain is because lederhosen boy broke my fall.
Jess gets to me first, and she’s asking me if I’m okay through laughter so strong it’s got her eyes all welled with tears. Once we’re both standing, my lederhosen man groans, his buddies rushing over to make sure he’s alright.
&n
bsp; “I think that’s our cue to get out of here,” Jess says through another spout of laughter, and she’s already tugging me toward the door.
“Oh wait, I still have his hat!”
“Keep it,” she says, tapping the black fabric on my head. “Souvenir.”
We link arms and sprint out of the bar and down the block, laughing the entire way. When we’re a few doors down, Jess tugs me into the next bar, one much quieter and low key with far less patrons.
“I can’t do another shot, Jess. I’ll throw up,” I tell her before she has the chance to scream Spring Break.
“I think we both need waters,” Jess agrees with a smile. “I’ll get a couple beers for us, too, just in case. Grab us that table in the corner?”
I nod, sliding into the high top and wiping the sweat off my forehead once I take off the German hat. My heart is still racing, and when Jess joins me with drinks in hand, she shakes her head.
“That poor kid is never going to forget dancing with you.”
I laugh. “God, I hope he’s okay.”
“He’ll be fine. Cheers,” she says, holding up her water. I clink my plastic water cup to hers, and then we both sigh with relief after chugging nearly all of it.
For a while, we just sit there catching our breath and sipping on our water as we look around the bar. And I can’t help but smile as I look at one of my best friends in the entire world and think of all we’ve been through.
I also can’t help but think about what Bear said about telling her what happened to me.
It makes my stomach cramp thinking about it, but I know in my heart it’s time.
“So, job hunt wasn’t that fun today, huh?”
Jess makes a gagging notion. “It’s the worst. But, really, I’m just keeping myself busy while I wait to hear from that wedding planner I interviewed with last week.”
“Know when you’ll hear back?”
“Probably never,” she says on a laugh. “I was snotting all over them in the interview. But if they have a heart and can look past that, hopefully in the next couple of weeks. She said they had more candidates to interview.”
Hazed: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 6) Page 12
