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His words could have been for show. Hell, he might have been trying to piss Wren off and nothing more. I have no idea. I basically ran away from him as soon as I could, and I never asked for an explanation.
The sound of my phone vibrating against the counter pulls my attention away from the box of uncooked noodles. When I look down at the screen, Naomi’s face is smiling up at me.
“Hey.” My voice is flat, void of all emotion. There’s no hiding this from her, so why bother trying.
“You sound thrilled to hear from me,” she jokes, chuckling into the phone. “What happened? Jace’s cock not live up to expectations?”
Ugh.
“I wish that were the problem,” I note, filling a pot with water before placing it on the burner.
“So does he not know how to use it, then?”
“I have no idea, Naomi. This isn’t about him.”
Lie number one. Good job, Presley.
“Let me guess,” she starts. I hear her crunching on the other end of the line and can almost picture her on her couch, shoving lime-flavored tortilla chips in her mouth after scooping up enough salsa the chip threatens to crack under the weight. “Wren’s being a dick again.”
Knowing I’m going to have to tell her everything to get her to understand where I’m at mentally right now, I start from the beginning. Lennon making it clear he wasn’t going to give up. Choosing Jace. Wren’s constant texts that I refused to read. Making out with Jace at the pool. Then, finally, the text Jace sent to Wren last night.
I read it to her verbatim to ensure I didn’t screw it up.
“What does it all mean, Naomi?”
“What do you think it means? You know him better than I do.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.”
“Do you really think he’d write that to Wren just to piss him off? Or do you think he’s actually falling in love with you?” When I don’t reply, she continues, “You know he meant it, Presley. You chose him. You made it clear you were willing to give up the game as long as you still had him. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Did you ever think that he was willing to do the same?”
“What if this is part of the game? What if he’s just playing along to get to the end?”
“Then I’ll have to cut his balls off.”
There’s not even a hint of humor in her voice. Do I believe she’d do it? No, but she’s not above threatening physical harm to get her point across.
“Listen to me and not the voices in your head for once, Presley. This guy likes you, a lot. He may even be falling in love with you. How he feels has no bearing on how you feel. Ask yourself this... Do you see yourself falling in love with him? Can you see yourself continuing a relationship with him after this is over? Do you light up when he walks in a room? Do you look for him wherever you turn?”
I want to scream yes over and over again, but I don’t need to. She already knows the answer to her questions.
“Think about this. You can’t deny how you feel about him any more than you can admit how you feel. Both are too hard. Both make you vulnerable of getting hurt.”
“So, what do I do?” I ask, cutting her off before she can say more. Her words are hitting deep, causing my stomach to turn.
“Ride it out. Let whatever is going to happen, happen. Stop trying to play a game you can’t win and just be you. Take a breath, let it out, repeat. Everything is going to work out the way it’s supposed to as long as you don’t try and control every aspect of the process.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Right. Because I’ve always been so successful in relationships. You do realize that I’ve had one serious relationship since we’ve met, and you know how that ended. Now, I’m trying to go with the flow and just let life happen. You know what? It’s great. I have no idea what’s going to happen, but that’s okay. I’m having fun right now, and I’m living for the moment.
“If you knew you were going to get your heart broken again, you wouldn’t even try. Or you’d try and fix things before they went bad. Then what? You’d spend all your time on edge, fixing issue after issue. That’s not living. That’s not the kind of relationship you want to be in. Just... let it happen,” she says with an exasperated breath.
It scares me how well she knows me sometimes. I’m a planner. A fixer. A problem solver. I always have been, and maybe those are things I need to let go of when it comes to a relationship. I certainly can’t control what’s going to happen, I can’t predict what’s around the next turn, and even if I could, I’m not sure I’d want to. Part of the fun of finding someone to spend your life with is the unpredictability of it all. The excitement of something new.
I’m putting the lasagna in the oven when Jace knocks on my door, letting himself in. He has a bottle of white wine in his left hand and a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in his right.
“For you,” he says, handing them to me as he leans down, gently placing a kiss on my cheek.
