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“Hey, I thought I’d stop by to see you. I brought lunch.” Her smile lights up her face and shines through her gold eyes. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“No, come in. Liv was just leaving, anyway,” I say shooting Liv a look. She frowns, her warning sharpening her eyes.
I stand to close the door as she leaves while Belle makes room on my desk for our food. She looks radiant in a knee length, summer dress colored a pale, rosy pink. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, enhancing the heart shape of her face. I’ll never be as pretty as she is. She doesn’t even try.
Swallowing the familiar stab of self consciousness I always feel when I stand next to her, I settle back into my seat eyeballing my chicken alfredo greedily.
“So how was your date?” she asks, digging into her lasagna. I feel a twinge of annoyance.
“What is with everyone? It was just an interview.”
Her gaze is burning holes into the top of my head as I stare into my pasta. I avoid her eyes and look instead at the halfway finished draft brightening my computer screen.
“Well…” Belle says. “How was it?”
To dodge answering, I stuff pasta into my mouth. The creamy cheesiness of the sauce and herb seasoned chicken explodes flavor onto my tongue. A moan escapes me as I forget what’s even going on. Where the hell did she get this heavenly food?
“Lil, come on,” Belle groans.
“It was fine… it was… I picked a fight with him,” I admit, my cheeks reddening.
“What do you mean?” she asks, smoothly sinking her plastic knife into her food to cut off a bite. “Mm, this is so good,” she moans.
“Well…” my heart hammers as guilt grips my stomach. “I–I was awful to him…”
I launch into everything that happened. When I’m done with my story, Belle’s face is red with outrage. Her eyes flash gold molten lava.
“Lily!” she snaps, and I wince. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“It doesn’t matter! It’s not like I hurt his feelings. The world apparently grovels at his feet. There are plenty of women that’ll jump to boost his ego!”
“You love the library!” she cries, flinging her arms to the ceiling and flicking red sauce in the process.
“I know,” I moan.
“Railroad park is your favorite place in the entire city!”
“I know!”
Shaking her head, she aggressively stabs a piece of lasagna and shoves it in her mouth.
“I will never understand why you push every freaking man away,” she grumbles around the mouthful.
“I don’t,” I mutter, pushing my pasta back and forth with my plastic fork.
“Stefan is a good man. I’ve known him for years. Give him a chance,” she orders, pointing a stained red plastic fork at me with a glare.
“I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Besides, he’s just a womanizer.”
“He is not!” she retorts. I huff and roll my eyes. What the hell does she know? She can’t see anything beyond Neal’s ass.
“He sleeps around, but he doesn’t take advantage of anyone. Neal says every woman that goes home with Stefan knows exactly what to expect.”
Neal says. She’s so blind. Why would I listen to a man’s opinion of another man? Ridiculous.
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want a boyfriend, and after that date, I’m sure he’ll never ask me out again. Problem solved.”
**
