“Don’t.”
“Heels.” She sighs and reaches for her water, taking a sip and avoiding looking at me. “I’m just saying, I think it’s weird—”
“Alex,” she warns, her tone dangerous. I snap my mouth shut. She glances at Brian pacing outside of the restaurant windows and leans in. “You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Flirt with me and give me crap about who I date,” she says in a low, venomous whisper. “You moved on, and now I get to do the same. And I would appreciate it if you’d would stop being a fucking dick to my boyfriend.”
I stare, stunned at her outburst. She sits back in her chair and smiles just as Trinity returns from the bathroom.
Trin puts her hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
Jules takes another sip of her water.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to shake myself out of my confusion. “Just surprised at how windy it seems to have gotten.”
I’m not sure Trinity believes my sad excuse, but she lets it go, jumping easily back into conversation with Jules about some kind of fashion trend. I don’t join in, choosing instead to sit back and wonder what the hell just happened.
Once the meal is over and we’ve ordered cars to pick us up, Jules seems like her normal self. Maybe it’s because I tried extra hard to be nice to Brian all through our crème brûlée.
The entire ride back is silent, and I’m grateful. Trinity answers messages on her phone, and I stare out the window, still trying to figure out what Jules meant when she said it was her turn to move on.
“That was quite the display of machismo back there,” Trinity says once we’re back in her apartment. She drops her purse on the counter and slips out of her heels.
“I didn’t think Brian was that bad.” I close the door behind me and pull the silk blouse out of my jeans, itching to get out of it and into something more comfortable.
“I’m not talking about Brian. You were rude and spent the entire evening trying to one-up him. What the hell was that about?”
“I was not,” I say defensively.
“Alex, please. You made the whole meal awkward. Julia was clearly excited for you and Brian to meet, and you turned it into a pissing match.” She turns around and motions toward her zipper, which I quickly oblige.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. She scoops up her heels and heads briskly down the hall. “I’m going to change and answer a few emails.”
She leaves me standing alone in the middle of her apartment contemplating how much of an ass I had to have been to piss off both TrinityandJules. I glance down the hall at the light from her bedroom spilling out into the hall, and I pull out my phone.
I’m sorry. I was out of line earlier. Brian seems really great. I’m happy for you.
I stand there waiting, hoping for a reply. When nothing comes through after a couple agonizing minutes, I check our thread one last time and then turn off my phone.
God, I’m such a selfish jerk.
It takes two weeks after Jules’s visit to New York for us to get back to normal. Sort of. She doesn’t talk about Brian much, not thatI blame her, but our conversations are friendly, and she seems to have forgiven me. Again. Not that it’s stopped me from moping around. This roller coaster we’re on is exhausting, and I’m not sure what to do about it. So I’ve spent most of my free time pouting and continuing to wonder why Jules would say she wanted to move on.
Move on from our night together? From me? I don’t understand it because we’ve had conversations, and I thought we agreed that—
“Alex.”
“Yeah?” Startled, I look at Trinity watching me from the kitchen with her hands on her hips.
She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I asked if you wanted chicken or beef?”
“Whatever is fine with me,” I tell her and go back to analyzing Jules’s latest Instagram reel where she’s surrounded by a field of flowers.
“Would you just pick one? Please?” She sounds tired and annoyed. A common tone from her in the past couple of weeks.
