Page 32 of All The Ways to Miss You

“Whose apartment is this?” She pushes past with an attitude and stomps in, removing her puffy coat. Underneath, she’s wearing flannel banana pajamas and sparkly Uggs. She kicks off the boots, leaving them where they fall.

I shut the door, grab her hand, and lead Her Royal Crankiness into the hall. I flip on the light switch and point to the photo of Evan, the one where he’s working on the Habitat house, half-nude and looking like a marble statue of a Roman god.

“You remember my landlord?”

Aggie’s suddenly awake, her eyes wide, and leans her face closer to the bare-chested photo. She can’t peel her interested gaze away. “Are those real?” She lifts her finger to the glass to press his abs, like each one is a button on her cell phone.

“Very real, and they look even better in person.”

She straightens. “Did you finally sleep with this slice of man-meat lovers, deep-dish pizza and not tell me?” Her voice rises to an annoyed pitchy squeak. “Living vicariously through you when you do something awesome doesn’t work unless you give me all the details.”

“I told you already, I tried. He won’t give in.”

“Why the hell not? You’re stunning . . . when you’re not all Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” The light brightens behind her eyes and she gasps. Her mouth forms an O. “That’s why you’ve been dolled up lately. It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I’m telling you. I tried. I took your advice to heart. I mean, you know what happened the other night⁠—”

“I remember.” She holds her hand flat in the air, making a plane noise before it dive-bombs and crashes.

“Well, yeah—okay. Sure. But . . .”

“Tell me this . . .” She moves to the sofa and sits, and I join her. “How was your kiss?”

“How was it?” My brows knit together.

Even though our kiss has been at the forefront of my mind for weeks, I can’t tell her it was the first I can ever remember. That it made my toes curl, my pulse race, my skin heat, and my legs wrap around his waist and tug him closer.

My gaze drops to the floor. “It was—nice.”

“Nice?” She guffaws. “You pulled me from bed for nice?”

“That reminds me, why were you in bed so early?”

“Don’t change the subject.” She points.

I sigh. “Okay, fine. It was hot. We have this gravitational thing.” My fingers and hands twist in a tight maddening motion of energy as if the wild gesture will explain how I feel about him.

“Gravitational?” She looks unconvinced.

“Chemistry?” I try a new word and scrunch my nose. “After I told him I wanted him for one night, no strings, he pushed me away and said he couldn’t be with me because I couldn’t handle it. That I wasn’t that type of girl, and he doesn’t want a girlfriend.”

Her eyes wide, she sinks back into the cushions of the couch. She folds her arms over her chest, all the gears cranking behind her pale blue eyes.

“Say something.” I slap the arm of the couch.

“I’m still shocked you tried.”

“Unfortunately, I tried again. Earlier tonight.” I wince.

“You didn’t.” She cups her hands over her mouth and yelps like she’s imagining the disaster.

“He rejected me again.”

“So you back off and move on. It’s not like you don’t have a waiting list. On to James, right?”

“That’s the thing. I’ve built up Evan in my head and made it a challenge I can’t lose. And . . . I think . . . I think I like him.”

Aggie looks worried now. One of the few things I’ve learned about myself from after is I have an unhealthy obsession with winning. I can never surrender.