Rules of Friendship: Friends-to-Lovers Standalone Romance Novel

by C. A. Harms

  “I used to think so,” I confess as tears pool in my eyes, tears I try to will away. “I think it was a huge mistake that we took things as far as we did.”

  “Beyond friends?” I nod. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because now I’m not sure we’ll be able to have that same closeness we once had.”

  “I think you need to go home.” I look up at her quickly, weighing her expression. “You need to talk to him and find out where you both are. Find out where his head is in all this. But you need to go in with an open mind and forget the fact that he lied. You can’t go in with your mind already made up, or you might as well admit that anything you’ve ever had is gone.”

  Heather leaves me alone with my thoughts while she showers. She also takes extra time to dry her hair and do her makeup. I, on the other hand, still remain in my pajamas from the night before with my wild messy hair piled high on my head. I also haven’t worn a stitch of makeup considering it is still at the apartment and I haven’t been back there since the day I packed my bag and left Dawson standing by the side of the road.

  The truth is that I do miss Dawson. More and more each day. It’s hard because I don’t want to miss him.

  Dragging myself out of the little nook I’ve called my own for the last few days, I attempt to brush my hair. Let’s just say that it is beyond painful. A knot the size of Texas has been hidden well within the heap of auburn hair. I decide to take the easy way out, and just brush around it and place it in an updo. I leave only a few loose tendrils hanging down around my face. This is my attempt to make it look like I actually care.

  I slip on my favorite tank top, and add an off the shoulder baggy t-shirt. Sliding my legs into a pair of worn out jean shorts, I search for my flip flops and find them hidden beneath the recliner I slept in my first night here.

  I pick up my keys off the table and am walking toward the front door when Heather finally emerges from the bathroom.

  “Call me if you need anything.” I think she knows giving me time alone with my thoughts would push me to face what I already know I need to do. I offer her a simple nod, feeling raw inside from what I’m about to face. “I mean it, Reese. Anything.”

  “I will,” I reply, fisting my hands at my sides as they shake. “Wish me luck.” Ignoring the sympathetic look she offers, I hurry out the door before she says anything further and my strength diminishes.

  My thoughts race as I drive toward my apartment. Turning the radio up, I sing along with the music, hoping it will help me escape my fears for even a small amount of time. Mixed emotions hit me when I see Dawson’s car sitting in its usual parking space. Pulling into the empty space at its side, I leave my car running, the music still playing, while I just stare at the red Camaro. I'll always remember the moment he bought it and insisted we take a three-hour cruise through the streets of LA and the surrounding areas.

  Part of me wants to go back to that time when things were simple. Those times when I secretly cared what he thought but kept that fact to myself.

  I know sitting in my Jeep reminiscing over the times before the difficulty set in isn’t going to solve a thing. But if I’m being honest, the closer I get to facing him, the worse my nerves take over. I’m stalling. I’ll admit it. I’m at the point where the inevitable makes me nauseous.

  As I’m just about to open the door, I hear a woman’s laughter. I look up just in time to see Dawson rounding the corner with Renee following closely behind. They’re walking in my direction. What the hell?!?

  “Thank you for this.” She smiles, practically yelling the words, as she trails behind. He stops, and she steps up close, placing her hand on Dawson's arm. He doesn’t return the gesture, but he also doesn’t shy away from her either.

  I hurry to start the Jeep, my body trembling with nervous energy and the need to escape. I watch as they both pause. Dawson runs his hand through his hair in the way he does when he’s uncomfortable. He looks back at Renee, and she lowers her hand, releasing the hold she’s had on him. I hate that I can’t hear what they are now saying now that their voices are quieter.

  Watching him with any girl hasn’t been easy over the last year or so, but watching him with Renee is even harder. The history they have and the intimacy they’ve shared give them a connection that I hate.

  I shift my Jeep into reverse. Just before I start to back out, Dawson looks up. Our gazes lock. My own vision clouds with the tears that have now formed. He takes a step toward me, and I twist in the seat to look behind me as I back out, seeing that the path is now clear.

  “Reese!” he calls out my name. Part of me wants to stop, but an even bigger part needs to get away quickly. “Stop!” I look back as I shift into drive and find that Dawson now stands where the Jeep once was. A moment passes between us, one I can’t quite understand. One that touches that vulnerable spot deep inside of me and breaks the last strand of strength I hold.

  I hit the gas, and the sound of someone blowing their horn makes me jump as I slam on my breaks long enough to let the car pass before merging out behind them. Looking up into my rear view mirror, I notice Dawson at the side of the road, his uncasted hand on his head as he fists his hair on top. The ache inside of me, the one that has been there for days, grows more prominent. I’ve never felt this alone in my life. Even though times have been rough for me, I’ve always had Dawson. Now I didn’t even have him. Renee has Dawson now.

  My phone rings in my purse, and the familiar ringtone tells me it’s Dawson. My voicemails are already filled with messages I’ve yet to listen to from him. I can’t bring myself to hear his voice. I’m suddenly thankful for that because no amount of excuses justify why she was there at our apartment with him. She doesn’t belong there in our home.

  I drive on auto-pilot until I reach Runyon Canyon Park. I wasn’t even thinking of it as a destination, but somehow I end up there. I just need to get away. I need time to think. I park and mindlessly climb out, reaching for my bag as I stumble along numbly. A consistent chirp chimes from my purse announcing that I have calls and messages awaiting, but I don’t care. My heart aches, my head is pounding, and I just want to be alone in my thoughts.

  I sit on a bench, looking out over the hills, as I silently watch others around me enjoying their day. A couple laughs, a few children play, and friends talk. But through it all, I only feel empty, the same hollow feeling I get when I think of the absence of my mother. Times like these were the times I missed her the most. I wish I could call her, talk to her about the feelings I hold inside. I want to ask her if I’m being ridiculous or if I honestly have reasons to worry.

  The tears return, and I just want them to stop. I don’t want to be that girl, the one jealous beyond control. I try to be rational and level-headed, but I just can’t seem to find that part of me. I reach inside my bag, ignoring all the missed calls that await, and scroll through to see my father’s number.

  By the third ring, I figure it’ll go to his voicemail, but am surprised to hear him answer instead. “Hello.”

  “Dad,” I say with a wavering breath, unsure if he’ll pick up on the shakiness in my voice. “How are you?”

  “Good,” he replies with the same answer as always. “Uncle Jess decided to redo his bathroom and recruited me to help.”

  “That’s fun, right?” I lean back against the bench as I attempt to distract my thoughts. “You always liked doing stuff like that.” What I mean to say is that the old him loved that type of work.

  “What’s going on, Reese?” His question surprises me.

  “I’m good,” I ensure him, feeling foolish suddenly for giving him back the same nonsense answer that he always manages to give me. “I’m fine,” I further reply, as if that is any better than the first explanation.

  “Now you sound like me.” I laugh because it’s almost like he plucks the thoughts right out of my mind. It’s also so unlike him to pick up on it too. My father is always so robotic lately and rarely does he register my moods. “Why don’t we cut through t
he bull and just lay it out straight?”

  My laughter fades and the emptiness returns, leaving me desperate for a connection.

  “I was thinking that maybe I’ll drive up for a visit.” I choose again to move right past what is weighing heavily on my mind. “We could go to lunch and talk.”

  “We could also get to the bottom of what’s eating at you.”

  “There’s that too,” I finally confess, looking out over the park once more where I see a man scooping a girl up in his arms, her own wrapping around his neck tightly. “I miss her, Dad.”

  The words fall from my lips before I can stop them. When I’m met with silence, I feel awful for allowing my emotions to get the best of me. “Me too, kid,” he whispers hoarsely. “Every day, with every breath.”

  I nod as if he could see me, and together we sit in silence. I’m not sure what he is doing. Whatever it is, he’s taken the time to just sit with me for a while. It is nice. Even though we don’t speak, I know he’s there. I’ll admit I’ve missed him too.

  Dawson

  “Where is she?” I block Heather’s path as she tries to get around me. “I’ve come here for the last two days, and I know she’s in this class with you.” I hold out my arm and sidestep to place my body back in front of hers. I’m well aware of the angry look on Heather’s face, but it doesn’t matter. “She hasn’t been in class. She won’t take my calls.”

  “And you honestly expect her to?” Here we go. I’m finally getting a reaction. “You two have always been inseparable. No one has a relationship like it, at least no one I know. There was never any bullshit, everything was just how you’d seen it. Until you decided to go running back to your ex after Reese and you hooked up."

  “That’s not what it was—”

  “Oh really? Because I was there, Dawson. I was sitting in the cafe with her while she watched you exit a hotel with Renee. I watched the same thing she did, the way the two of you smiled at one another, shared some kind of moment.” By this time, Heather’s arms are flailing around, and she’s gotten closer to me, irritation rolling off of her in waves. “Let’s not forget that you lied to her about where you were going. Then when you had a chance to redeem yourself, what did you do? What did you do, Dawson?”

  I swallow hard, lifting my hand up to fist my hair.

  “You lied again.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “The thing that puzzles me the most about this,” Heather says while letting out a low, frustrated breath. “Is that it’s never been complicated for you two. Everything has always been so easy going. The worst part about all this is that she came home the other day to talk this out and she was forced to watch you and Renee together again, leaving an apartment she shares with you. If nothing is going on, then what the hell was she doing in a place you share with Reese?”

  I don’t want to be having this conversation with Heather. I want to be talking it out with Reese. She needs to hear it from me, and I try to explain. “I need to talk to her, Heather.”

  I’m desperate. I miss Reese so fucking much that I feel this unbearable ache inside me from her absence. “Will you please tell her it’s not what she thinks and that I just need a few minutes to explain?”

  “Will Renee be attending the little get together too?”

  I resist the urge and don’t bite back. Heather has every right to be bitchy. And Reese has every reason to be upset.

  “She’s gone.”

  Alarm hits me hard, “What?”

  “She went away for a few days,” Heather replies, sounding defeated, no longer carrying that big attitude she had only moments ago. It looks more like the same defeat I feel inside. “She just needed a break.” She pauses again but only for a few seconds. “You haven’t seen it, but I have. Her seeing you with Renee has made her question everything. It’s her worst fears come true. Not only does she feel like she’s lost you in the relationship sense, she feels like she’s lost her best friend too.”

  “She hasn’t lost me at all .” My heart aches.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Dawson. Reese lost that bond the minute you lied to her and left her in bed alone so you could run off and be a hero to your ex.” Heather steps around me. Only this time, I do nothing to stop her.

  “Get up .” The couch cushion shifts beneath me. I move the pillow to the side and look up to see Kevin and Wyatt standing over me. “You need to take a shower. You look homeless, man.”

  “Remind me again why you have a key to my place?” I mumble, placing the pillow over my face once more to block them out.

  “Because I’m your boy,” he says this proudly as he pulls away my pillow away.

  “No.” I attempt to grab for it, and in the process, I almost fall off the couch. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

  “We can go out without you.”

  “Good,” I groan, “go.” I wave them off, turning my body away from them and facing the back of the couch this time. I’ve spent every night sleeping in this very spot since Reese left. My bed feels too lonely without her next to me, and her bed smells like her, which only makes me miss her more.

  “I thought you said he’s been wanting to talk to her?” Wyatt asks Kevin.

  “He does,” Kevin says, and they carry on as if I can’t hear everything they are saying to one another. “He’s been calling her and texting her but hasn’t gotten the chance to explain.”

  “What the hell are you two going on about?” By this point, I’m sitting up and am staring at them with irritation. These dicks weren’t gonna leave obviously, so there was no point in attempting to fall back to sleep.

  “I got word that your girl is out on the town.” I stare at Kevin, and he holds his smirk. “The story is that she spent the last week with her dad, now she’s back feeling like she needs a night out to recover from emotional overload.”

  “She was with her dad?” Kevin nods. “She okay?”

  “Emotionally spent from what Heather said, but they reconnected and her father finally opened up about his heartbreak and loss. She said Reese was wrecked by the time she came back.”

  I’ve always been the one she’s turned to when she needs to fall apart, especially after a phone call or visit with her dad. I’ve felt the distance between us over the last weeks, but this only makes it feel like an entire world is separating us.

  “She’s out prowling, man,” Wyatt adds, “you gonna let that happen?”

  I don’t answer them as I stand from the couch and hurry to get ready. A quick shower, an even speedier shave with an electric razor just to clean away the longer hairs, and I am dressed and ready within twenty minutes.

  “Let’s go !” I holler out to them as I grab my keys and walk out the door, leaving them scurrying after me to catch up.

  For the first time in days, I am motivated and energized. Having Reese gone has been my personal hell. I don’t care what it takes. Before the night ends, I will explain everything to Reese. I will put my heart on the line and do whatever it takes to win Reese back. She’s my everything.

  Reese

  “You feeling okay?” I turn away from the band that plays and lean in a little closer to Heather so she can hear me clearly. “I’m good.”

  She’s been amazing over the last couple of weeks. When I fell apart after Dawson secretly met up with Renee, she was the one I leaned on to help ease the pain. She was also the rock I needed the second time I found them together. After my extended visit with my dad, I’ll admit my first thought after I returned from my trip was to run straight to Dawson. I’ve missed him so much, but it seems to be getting a little easier to face with each day that passes.

  I think we made a mistake. We never should’ve let our needs lead our actions. We aren’t meant to be more than just friends. Though being more felt great for a while.

  “Did I tell you I went to look at that apartment I called on yesterday?”

  “You said you spoke with the agent, but that was all.” She leans in a little closer when the
beat of the song picks up. The club is so loud that you can barely hear anything around you. “Are you gonna take it?”

  “It reminds me a lot of your place.” I smile when she wrinkles her nose. “I like your place. It’s cozy.”

  “It’s tiny,” she corrects, “and that doesn’t make it cozy.”

  “A place that size is perfect for one person,” I say it out loud but it makes my chest feel tight. I haven’t lived on my own. Ever. I’d gone straight from living with my father to moving in with Dawson. The idea of living alone makes me feel anxious, fearful even. “It doesn’t have the window seat like yours, but it does have a small balcony that I can sit out on while drinking coffee in the morning.”

  I turn back to the band when she continues to stare at me with an interrogative look. I know all she is attempting to do is read me, trying to find what I’m hiding behind the fake smile.

  I ignore her, as faking my happiness is something I’m learning how to do well. I start to sway with the music, doing my best to appear settled and secure. The club is crowded with people smashed into one another as the loud music plays. I’m in desperate need of this distraction.

  I spent five days with my dad. In the beginning, it was only meant to be one night. But once he opened up, I couldn’t walk away. By the end of those five days, we were both destroyed but in the best possible way. We shared stories of my mother and memories of our times together. My father talked about the first time he met her, how he knew even then that she would be the woman who was it for him. He referred to her as his angel, and when I told him she still was, he fell apart. I never imagined holding my father as he cried on my shoulder, but I did for hours it seemed. The love they once shared and could no longer share was breathtaking, and I know that he’ll always love her until his last breath. He would never remarry and he would never forget her. She was, is, and always would be his one and only.

  Things are different now between him and me. He apologized more times than necessary over the course of our visit. He knew he’d been absent in my life and that he’d been wrong. But I understood. He was still grieving, and I knew he would be for years to come. He lost himself when he lost my mother.