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Probably Hayden.
Letting out a sigh, I push away all thoughts of Beckett and the drama that followed us that year. I focus on the fact I still have my best friends by my side. That we trusted each other.
Hoes before bros.
No man was ever going to get in the way of our friendship, and after it was all over, we vowed to never let a man hurt any of us ever again. We’re older and wiser now. Not only that but we’ve learned to vet them.
When Austin started dating a guy last year, Hayden and I went up to visit for the weekend. We interrogated the guy for three hours, though he had no idea that’s what we were doing. His story changed so many times it was funny. Austin was sitting there the entire time, attempting not to frown when she realized he was feeding us lie after lie. She broke up with him before our plane took off late Sunday night.
It turned out he was married. Had two kids. Didn’t even live in Seattle like he claimed. He spent time there for work. His real home was in Pennsylvania. Which is where his family was located.
Asshole.
Thinking about him gets me fired up the same way thinking about Beckett does. Men are pigs. Not all of them, sure, but so many it’s hard to tell the difference sometimes. It’s why we’re cautious. Standoffish.
We might date, but we don’t get involved. We certainly don’t fall in love.
That’s why I refuse to let myself get close to Eli.
I reach for my phone, scroll past the unread texts from Ansen, and pull up the group chat I have with Hayden and Austin.
ME: Miss you guys. When are you coming home next?
Both answer immediately.
AUSTIN: What’s wrong?
HAYDEN: Do you need us there?
ME: Everything is fine. I just miss hanging out with you. Work is crazy and we’re leaving for the Bahamas in two weeks but maybe when we get back, if I have a break, we can do girls’ weekend or something.
AUSTIN: My schedule is crazy until the week you’re here in Seattle. Can you come up that weekend @Hayden?
HAYDEN: That could be fun. Shoot me the dates and I’ll try.
Sending off the dates, followed by three hearts, always three, one for each of us, I say goodnight to my best friends. Shuffling my feet across the carpet, I force myself to shower before crawling in bed.
Just as I’m about to drift off my phone chimes.
ELI: Thanks again for running lines with me today. See you in the morning.
ME: You’re welcome. Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.
ELI: I wasn’t sure which were your favorites, so I had to guess.
ME: I think those are my new favorites. Irises?
ELI: I’m not sure. All I know is when I saw them, I knew they were the ones I wanted to buy for you.
What do I even say to that? I want to tell him how sweet he is, but I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. I don’t want to lead him on, to let him believe that there’s a chance something can happen between us.
I’m not interested. In him or anyone else. I’m not ready to put my heart out there.
Being afraid it’ll get broken is one thing. Knowing it might shatter if I fall too hard, too fast, is another. Eli already possesses the power to destroy me in a way I won’t be able to come back from. I can’t risk it.
ME: Well, thank you again. Have a good night.
ELI: Sweet dreams, Taylor.
My heart melts a little more as I stare at his message until my screen goes black.
Damn movie stars. They always know the perfect thing to say. It’s like it’s ingrained in them. That’s why I consider them more dangerous than most other men.
And here I am, swooning over a text message from Eli Simms.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I realize exactly how much trouble I’m already in. Because I like him. And he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who gives up without a fight. But that’s what I plan to do. Fight for control of my heart.
