“That's not a no,” she says in a sing-song voice.
“It's not a yes either.”
“But you want to.” It's not a question. “Oh my God, Adriana. You want to kiss him.”
I press a hand to my forehead, my heart thumping hard. His gorgeous face pops into my mind and the tiny, all-too-familiar tingles begin their relentless dance in my belly. “I don't?—”
“Don't even try. I've known you your whole life. You get this thing in your voice when you're trying not to feel something.” She pauses. “And you've got it now. Big time. I can hear it.”
I rub my temples. “It's complicated.”
“It really isn't. He's hot. You're living together. There's clearly chemistry. What's the problem?”
“The problem is that this isn't real. It's a contract. An arrangement. And he’s your age, for Pete’s sake! I have too much on my plate to even think about romance. Getting emotionally involved would be?—”
“Human?”
“Stupid.”
“Same thing sometimes. And the age thing, really? You look like you’re thirty and you’re in better shape than any of my friends.” She sighs. “Adriana. Listen to me. I know you've spent your whole life being careful and strategic. You always make sure every decision serves a purpose. But sometimes things just... happen. And that's okay. It’s called life, you know? You should live it.”
I swivel around in my chair and stare out the window. How would it feel to have his arms wrapped around me? To feel his lips on mine, devouring me like he can’t breathe without me?
But then I shake my head.
No. The life I chose for myself isn’t a romance novel. Sure, I like to indulge in those stories and experience all the feels, but that’s not reality. Not for me.
“Things don't just happen to me, Lulu,” I say.
“Maybe they should. Or rather, maybe you should let theminstead of blockading yourself from things that may turn out to be incredible.”
I don't have an answer to that. So I flick a piece of lint from my skirt.
“He seems like a good one,” Luna says, softer now. “From what I saw at the wedding. From what you're not saying. He actually sees you, doesn't he?”
My throat tightens. “I don't know.”
“You do. You're just scared to admit it.”
I roll my eyes. “When did you become a therapist?”
“I took a psychology class in college. I'm basically an expert.” She pauses. “But seriously. Don't sabotage something good just because it wasn't part of the plan. You're allowed to have things, Adriana. Even things you didn't expect. And I know this was unexpected, but it’s right in front of you.”
I let that simmer on the back burner while we talk for a few more minutes about Dad and his condition; Mom and how she’s holding up.
But after I hang up, her words stick with me.
You're allowed to have things.
I've never believed that. Not really. Everything in my life has been earned, fought for, plucked out of a world that wanted to shape me into someone else's idea of who I should be.
The idea that something could just... be given. Be easy.
It doesn't compute. Not for me.
Maybe it never will.
CHAPTER 16
