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I actually don’t. That’s the truth.
I don’t know why we’re being friends, I don’t know why it took him seeing Paili and me looking sad for him to say we could be more than that. And I think Julian knows that because he knows me. More than I wish he did, maybe. I think he was paying more attention than I thought he was all along, and I don’t have time to rationalise what that actually means right now, because for about the forty-fifth time this year, I feel like the rug is being pulled out from under me.
I swallow and barely meet his eye.
“I don’t know.” My voice is softer than I wish it was because Julian’s brows dip and his jaw sets.
“Is he cocking around?”
“No.” I give him a cross look.
“How do you know?” Jules asks a bit with his chin.
“He’s just not—” I shake my head once. “I know he’s not.”
Julian sniffs a laugh, shakes his head, squints at me. “I know he makes you go starry-eyed and shit, but Parks, honestly, if he loves you how he says he does, why the fuck isn’t he with you?” He shrugs his shoulders once. “You’ve got to ask yourself that.”
I throw back my drink and walk away. Down the hallway towards Christian’s office. I need a minute to cry for a bit, probably vomit again. I don’t want it on camera. I don’t want Paili to see that she’s shaken me.
I unlock Christian’s office door. Pin code: 6969. Same as his iPhone. Idiot.
I perch on his desk for a grand total of four seconds before BJ bursts in.
“What’d he say to you?” he asks, closing the door behind him.
“Nothing.”
He lifts his eyebrows. Doesn’t buy it.
“It was nothing—” I shake my head.
“Nothing?” he repeats. His voice is sharp.
I glance up at him with fighting eyes.
“Nothing I wasn’t already thinking.”
He nods at me once. “Go on then.”
I jump up to my feet.
“I’m over this shit, Beej.”
“What shit?” He looks annoyed.
“Being your friend! I’m not your friend—” I shake my head. “I’ve never been your friend. I don’t want to be your friend. We practically had sex the other night! It’s bullshit. Whatever you’re saying is bullshit. I don’t believe you anymore.” My voice is getting louder and my insecurities are like cracks in the varnish of us. “None of what you said is about me, none of this is about me trusting you. That’s bullshit. You’re just not ready to commit to me or—”
“—That’s coming from him,” he interrupts, pointing at the door. “That’s not coming from you.”
“Is he wrong?” I arch an eyebrow and his head pulls back.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He blinks. “Magnolia, you are the only thing I’ve ever been committed to in my entire life.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” I wave my hands in the air, exasperated. “I said I’ll forgive you. I said I’ll trust you.”
And, admittedly, the measure of those are perhaps less than either of us originally thought, but anyway. He shakes his head.
“Yeah, but see, the thing is, Parks, I don’t trust you,” he tells me, face completely straight.
