CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
June
Screw being sore from workouts—being sore from sex was by far the better way to do it. Even if it meant I fought the urge to make a sound every time I lifted a bucket of flowers.
In the last week, I’d gotten the best sleep of my life. After sex, Madi, Dallas, and I always fell right asleep. His mattress was learning the imprint of our bodies intertwined together, and I missed it when I wasn’t in it.
I’d learned more about my flexibility with Dallas and Madi than any Sunday yoga class ever taught me.
My phone rang for the third time in the last five minutes and I sighed, finally answering. “Evie, I do not have the time?—”
“Did you know that research studies say that women need a girl’s night every two weeks in order to feel alive?” Evie interrupted. “And did you know that it’s beenthreeweeks since the last time we used the Breakdown Couch for such a night? Possibly even longer?”
Despite everything, a soft laugh bubbled up. “Am I being summoned?”
“Mm-hmm. You are hereby summoned. No ifs, ands, or buts. Avery and I will be at your place tonight whether you like it or not. Hide the sex toys.”
I thought about mine, but it was safely tucked away in my dresser drawer.
“Okay, fine,” I said. “You’re in charge of food.”
“Of course. See you in a bit.”
She hung up promptly and I groaned, planting my forehead on the shop counter. It worked out since Dallas and Madi were having a date night tonight. I’d encouraged them to do something together. She and I could enjoy tomorrow night together—and then Sunday we’d find out what Dallas had in store for us.
Full moon.
Whatever that meant.
And then it’ll almost be time for her to leave.
A thousand pricks of pain spread across my chest.
At least seeing Avery and Evie tonight would distract me from that haunting thought.
Coward.Whatever I was feeling, this sticky, gooey feeling—it never went away. At first, I thought it was fear. But now it felt achingly close to . . .
Love.
But it couldn’t be. It was too soon. It wasn’t right. I’d given them a proposal knowing that at the end, Madi would be leaving us to go home to LA.
All sex. No feelings. No attachments.
Friends with benefits.
That’d been the deal. The dealI’dproposed.
Now it was staring me down, and so was my regret.
I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like again after Monday. It would go back to normal, right? But there’d be a hole where my world had molded around her, and the shape of her presence in my life would still be here, an imprint of what was. It was easy to scold myself for making the proposal. Easy to chastise the past me. But even knowing that devastation waspending, the only regret I had was that I was broken. If I were a normal person, I could have cut away the parts that were unlovable.
But I wasn’t sure what to do now.
Everyone always dreamed of love. It was in the books, in the movies, in folklore. The tale of two souls meeting and falling so deeply and madly for each other that nothing in the world could keep them apart. No evil villain or disaster or pain could stop them from loving each other. The fabled happy ending had been packed up and resold over and over again—and that’s what we were supposed to want.
And god did I want it.
But I wasn’t sure that sort of story was ever meant to be mine. All of the feelings sitting on my chest were heavy and confused. When Madi and Dallas looked at me, I felt loved. But then I wondered if I was enough. Was I perfect for them? Or was there someone else out in the world who could make them happier? Someone less shattered.
