I laughed. “I was thinking about making a change before I met her. She’s just an added bonus.”
“So, you made plans to see her again?”
“No plans, but I know I’ll see her again. She’s Chantel’s best friend?—”
“Chantel’s friend?” Eric barked a loud laugh, and my smile grew even wider. “Guess that shouldn’t surprise me. You always were infatuated with older women.”
“Yeah, yeah. You know your wife loved me first.”
“Keep your mind on your own woman,” he growled.
Like I was ever a threat. He knew if it weren’t for me, they’d have never met. Sure, I still got a brief pang every time I saw them together, but it wasn’t jealousy. Not anymore.
I’d been fourteen, sick, possibly dying, and Jamie had been the first person outside my family who’d treated me like I was more than a diagnosis. I’d confused that for love. Took two years to figure out it wasn’t her I wanted. It was what she and Eric had.
And three weeks ago, standing beside Zadie at that party, her laugh vibrating through me, I’d felt the first real pull toward having it for myself.
“Zadie’s not mine. Not yet. And I’m not sure she wants to be anyone’s. She told me she doesn’t believe in love.”
“Was that before or after you kissed her? I told you, little bro—practice. You can’t just dream about kissing girls to be good at it.” He smirked.
Fucking ass.
“You’re not as funny as you think you are.” I shook my head but couldn’t stop smiling. “I told you, she kissed me, and it was phenomenal.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
My shoulders tensed. “The timing sucks. She’s at Chantel’s because her last relationship ended badly. Fuck, the whole thing sounded like a goddamn nightmare?—”
“Wait.” Eric’s hand shot up as he paused, putting the pieces together. “She’s living with Chantel, too? Don’t you think moving in with her might be a little fucking transparent?”
“I don’t care.”
He laughed again, quieter this time. “All right. But what if you’re uprooting your life for a woman who doesn’t want you there?”
“I’m not doing it all for her. But I’m also not going stay in Toronto, wondering if she does.”
“And what about her ex?”
“What about him? He’s a piece of shit who left her twice. He’s not a factor.”
“The ex is always a factor. Until he’s not.” Eric’s voice dropped, serious now. “Trust me on that one.”
“Noted.” I swallowed the lump suddenly stuck in my throat. “What if you’re right and I mess it all up?”
“We all fuck up at least once in life. You’re overdue.” He clamped his hand on my shoulder again, and this time it stayed. “But you’ll also figure it out. Fear’s an asshole. You’ve got to put it behind you—you’re the one who taught me that.”
I smiled, forcing back the ridiculous fucking emotion. “You still haven’t learned. You can’t live without fear. You’ve got to live despite it.”
“Yes, you do.” He pulled me into a rough hug, smacking me hard on the back before letting go. “So, you’re moving into Chantel’s house with the woman you’re obsessed with.”
“I’m not obsessed.”
“Caleb, you dropped out of school, drove home, and told our mother you’re moving into the same house as a woman you’ve met once. You’re obsessed.”
Okay, so I was fucking obsessed.
Week 7
