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“Oh, he’s at our friend’s place, so he didn’t care.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I slump and look over at April, who’s raising a confused eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to take you away from plans.”
“All good.” She smiles. “You’re my friend and you needed me. I’m here.”
Unexpected warmth fills my chest at her declaration. I’ve never, not in my entire life, had a person who would drop everything to help me. Maybe Paulie if I called on him, but I couldn’t say that I ever would. I hated being a burden.
“Thank you,” I answer simply, turning on the stirrer for the drinks and giving each one a stir.
“So, what’s up?” April asks, taking a slow sip of her drink after I set it on the island. I lean my elbows on it and run my hand over my hair.
“So… I met someone.” I glance up, catching her expression light up in interest. “It’s brand new,” I rush to say. “But it’s really… good.”
She raises a brow and chuckles. “It’s really good? How is it really good?”
“I don’t know.” I blush and cover my face with my hands, embarrassed at the immature reaction. “It’s just he makes me feel…” I hold my hands in front of me, watching as April looks on with fascination. “Free.”
The last word is almost whispered, and I keep my eyes on April, but she just grins at me. “That’s a good thing.”
I slump against my island, nearly knocking my mug over onto the white countertop. “Is it?”
She nods, her grin broadening. “Yes. It really is. Being able to feel comfortable, or in your words, free with another person? That’s the ultimate goal.”
“Okay, but I’ve never felt this way before with anyone. So how do I know how to navigate this?”
She shrugs. “You have to trust your gut on it, you have to follow your heart. It’s the only way.”
I bite my lip. Following my heart hasn’t ever been in play, following my gut is instinct. Well, in business anyway. And that’s helped me a multitude of times, but never in a relationship.
I’ve always been the one dumped, so how do I know how to follow my gut and heart when I didn’t even see those times coming?
April takes another sip and asks, “Is it admirer guy?”
“No.” I bite my lip, my mind going back to the note I received a few days ago. To the mission I’d given myself to find the man who was sending me the most amazing poems I’d ever read. Warren had taken up so much of my brain that I hadn’t even given the admirer a second thought.
“What? Really? Who is it then?”
“The mail room guy.”
“Mail room guy? Who’s the mail room guy?” She stands straighter, her eyes going side to side like she’s thinking something over.
I wave my hand at her. “I haven’t told you about him yet.”
“No, wait, is his name Warren?”
I pause and cock my head. “Uh,didI tell you about him?”
She bites her lip and leans forward. “Did you find out who the poem guy was?”
Shaking my head at her change of subject, I say, “No. I got distracted.”
“With mail room guy?”
“Yes,” I huff in annoyance; she’s going around in circles.
“Whose name is Warren? Warren Blake?”
I throw up my hands. “How do you know that?”
