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Amillion butterflies shed their cocoons and begin to flap their wings wildly in my stomach. “Really?” I squeal. “I’m your favorite person?”
“Easily. I thought you knew that.” He frowns.
“I…mean you’re my favorite person too obviously. But I didn’t know I was yours,” I whisper and rub my finger along the rim of my glass. “That means a lot to me.” I look towards the television and smile when I see Kevin setting up his battleground in his house. “Should we take these?” I ask, referring to the shots that are probably a horrible idea.
He nods and we do it in silence. I’m not sure if the silence is awkward or comfortable but the alcohol makes me break it. “So, are you seeing anyone?” I don’t know why I ask this question; I don’t want to know and I’m so unprepared for his answer.
“No.” He chuckles. “I’m not.”
“Not even casually?”
“I spend all my time at work or with my baby sister; where does a girlfriend or whatever fit into that?”
“Okay, not all your time. And you could still have a fuck buddy or someone you call over when you’re lonely or whatever.”
“Been there, done that.” He shrugs. “The loneliness I feel can’t be fixed with that,”he chuckles.
I frown. “Wait, you’re lonely? Like actually? I meant like lonely on a particular night, I didn’t mean like…James, really?” My heart hurts hearing this. I want to wrap him in a hug and shield him from any pain and loneliness he’s ever felt.
He sits up. “Gab, it’s no big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal. How are you lonely? You’ve got tons of friends and you’re likable and charming and—”
“None of that matters at the end of the day,” he interrupts. “I mean friends are important, don’t get me wrong but this apartment is huge and it would be nice to come home to someone at the end of the day.”
“Oh my God.” I put my hands over my eyes. “And you say you spend all your time with me which means you’ll never meet someone! I am so sorry. When we get back, I’ll stop inviting myself over. You need to get out there.”
“No, Gab. I’m not agreeing to that. Spending time with you is what keeps me sane. Well…sometimes.” He laughs.
I don’t understand the ominous comment. “I drive you insane?”
“Yeah Gabrielle, you do.” There he goes using my full name again.
“How?”
“Because—” He stops. “Never mind. It’s just because I worry about you.”
Oh. My. God. He’s lying to me.
“You’re lying.” I hadn’t meant to call him out on it because it was obvious he did not want to tell me the truth but the words slipped out easily. Thanks a lot, Jameson.
“What?”
“You’re lying. It’s not because you worry about me.”
“Yes, it is. You think I don’t worry about you?”
“I’m not saying you’re lying about that; I’m saying that’s not why I drive you insane.”
He rubs his forehead and shakes his head. “Gab, can we not do this now?”
“Do what?”
His blue eyes narrow and suddenly look darker than usual. “This whole thing where you don’t let things go and berate me into telling you something?”
“I just want to know. You’re the one who said we tell each other everything.”
“And you tell me everything?” he asks and my heart begins to pound in my chest.
