What happened? Are you okay?
He sent his response, then waited, his knee bouncing as the three text bubbles hovered on his screen.
Finally, after the longest pause known to mankind, a single word appeared.
No.
He instantly dialed her number.
The call went to voicemail.
Another text pinged.
Sorry. Can’t talk. Eating my weight in Almond Joy ice cream.
Uh-oh. CeCe’s comfort food.
Save me a scoop. I’m on my way.
Without a second thought, he stood, stuffing his phone in his pocket before she could text back telling him not to come. “Sorry, guys. Gotta bail.”
“Really?” Evan asked in surprise. “Aren’t you crashing here tonight?”
“Yeah, but something came up. Okay if I come in late?”
“Sure. Door’s always unlocked. Everything okay?”
“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Ignoring Evan’s question, he bid them all good night, avoiding direct eye contact with Mia. She knew him too well and would instantly guess where he was headed.
Breathing deeply to calm his racing pulse, he climbed into Evan’s beat-up surfer van, grateful for the loaner vehicle even if it smelled like an odd mix of minty rash balm and musty wet suit.
The easy five-minute drive to Main Street felt like six hours as questions, concerns, and worst-case scenarios swirled in his head. His only consolation rested in the knowledge that if something truly catastrophic had happened, she would’ve asked him to come over. After all, despite the long distance between them, they were still best friends, right? He didn’t want to exist in a world where he wasn’t her go-to person. Although, deep down, in the dark corners of his subconscious he tried to avoid, he knew one day that role would belong to another man.
A man who would marry her for real.
Shoving the thought back into the filing cabinet of likelihoods he refused to acknowledge, he let himself into the café through the side door, using his spare key, then climbed the steps two at a time. He didn’t bother knocking.
CeCe sat cross-legged on the couch, devouring ice cream straight from the carton, while Spock perched on the armrest as if impatiently waiting his turn. His feline friend mewed when he spotted him and leaped to the ground to greet him.
“Hey, buddy.” Jayce scooped the cat into his arms, reciprocating the warm welcome with several scratches behind the ears.
“He never greets me like that,” CeCe mumbled, her mouth full.
“We have a special manly bond.” With a final rub under the chin, Jayce set Spock on the back of the couch, claiming the seatbeside CeCe for himself. “Almond Joy, huh? Whatever’s wrong, it must be a doozy.”
She lifted her face, her cheeks puffy and tear-streaked. “Sorry, I just ate the last bite.”
“Don’t sweat it.” He took the empty carton and spoon from her hands and set them on the coffee table before enveloping her in his arms. “What happened and how can I help?”
She leaned into him, melting into the crook of his arm. How did she fit so perfectly? “I’m the worst person in the world,” she whimpered, resting her head on his shoulder as if she could no longer bear its weight.
His chest squeezed. He loathed seeing anyone in pain, especially someone he cared about. But with CeCe, the sight of her sadness wrecked him. “I doubt you’re the worst,” he joked, knowing she needed levity in moments like this one. “What about that guy who trollsStar Trekfan sites claiming Spock is the poor man’s version of Grand Admiral Thrawn fromStar Wars?”
“Okay, he’s pretty bad.” She sniffled, then laughed softly through her tears when Spock hissed, seeming to express his own disapproval of the troll. “But I’m a close second.”
“Tell me what happened, and Spock and I can vote on where you rank in the Bad Guy Hall of Fame.”
“I can’t.” She buried her face in her hands. “It’s too awful. You’ll wonder why you’re even friends with me.”
