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“Which means this is gone,” I assumed, and grabbed the empty cup. “I’ll get you another.”
After getting a black coffee for myself and another mocha for Paisley, I went back to the table and tried not to ask why she looked nervous as shit. Her brown eyes flickered up to mine and I felt my forehead pinch together. Was she wearing makeup? Since when does Pay wear makeup?
“So, uh, how’s work?”
The cup stopped halfway to my lips and stayed there before I placed it roughly back on the table. A week after the weirdest fucking night of our friendship and that’s what I get?
“Okay, what the hell is going on? I haven’t seen you in a week. We never have these awkward silences. You never have to ask, ‘Uh, how’s work?’ And you’re wearing makeup, for Christ’s sake.”
Her eyes brightened, and her full lips went up into a soft smile. “You noticed I’m wearing makeup?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s what you’re going to go with out of all that?” When her cheeks darkened and her mouth formed a tight line, I sighed. “I’m a guy, but I still know what makeup is. I had to spend years trying to get Candice and Rachel not to wear that shit, so yeah, I noticed that you’re wearing it.”
“Langu—”
I leaned closer until I was right in front of her face and spoke low. “Language is about to get a whole lot worse if you don’t clue me in on whatever’s happening with you.”
“I met someone,” she blurted out, and I rocked back in my seat.
“What?”
“Um, I, uh—I met someone. A guy.”
“No, I got what you meant. When did this happen and do I know him?”
Her eyes were glued to her cup, but I wanted her to look at me so I could understand what exactly this guy had done to her. If he’d hurt her I was going to kill him.
“A few weeks ago, and, no, you don’t know him. We’ve gone out a lot since I met him . . .” She continued talking, but I didn’t hear anything else.
She’d met this guy weeks ago and hadn’t told me? And this entire week when I’d been trying to get ahold of her, she’d probably been on dates with him? Fuck. That. I didn’t care who this prick thought he was. Paisley was my closest friend; I wasn’t about to lose her to this guy. Especially if it meant her turning into the Paisley I’d seen the last two times we’d been together.
“Eli.” Her shaky tone finally broke through my inner brooding, and I looked up at her. “I need to tell you something—and I don’t want you to respond until the end when I ask you a question. Okay?”
He hurt her. I knew it. That’s it; he was dead.
“Eli?”
“Yeah, okay,” I growled.
Paisley’s dark eyes turned sad and she shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re mad about, but we don’t have to do this right now, we can do it later.”
When she started to stand, I grabbed her hand and held her there. “No, I want to do this now, but I need to know if he hurt you, Pay. It’s killing me thinking of everything this guy might have done to you.”
“Of course he didn’t!”
Relief surged through my body until I realized that there was still something else making her act like this. Trying to keep my tone neutral, I urged her to tell me. “Okay, I promise I’ll stay quiet until your question.”
Her eyes immediately fell back to her coffee cup as she took measured breaths in and out—and just when I was about to beg her to talk to me, she looked back up.
“This guy I met, Brett, he’s—well, he’s different. Like, he’s a game changer for me. I look at him, and I have no doubt of that. I have no doubt that I could spend the rest of my life with him.”
Oh shit. It was like Jason said. I really was going to lose my Paisley.
“And I know that sounds crazy after only a few weeks, but, honestly, I knew it the first day I met him. I don’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t like the world stopped turning or anything, there was just a feeling I had.” She swallowed roughly and looked away for a second. “But there’s this other guy, and I swear this guy owns my soul.”
There was another guy? And she hadn’t said anything? We’d
always told each other everything. Seriously, when the hell did all this change?
