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“I’ll see you tonight,” Court said.
“Yeah, whatever, fucker.”
Court laughed and then hung up.
I shouldn’t have been this worked up about it, but Court wasn’t wrong. I’d never really gotten over what could have been with Whitley. She’d made herself perfectly clear that she didn’t want to try this by moving across the country. And I didn’t think that I could change her mind now … but I was willing to try.
3
WHITLEY
English crashed into me. “There you are!”
I wrapped my arms around my best friend with relief. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine. I’m just glad that you’re here.”
She looked as sensible as she’d wanted me to dress. Her blonde hair pin straight with soft makeup and a neutral lip. She was in a Chanel suit with classic nude pumps. The friend I’d made at UCLA—who blew rockstars backstage at concerts because she had a thing for trauma to escape her Valley roots—was really and truly gone. Now, she handled rockstars with aplomb and was only flustered by the mayor of New York City, who was also about to be her mother-in-law.
“Are you sure about that?”
English laughed as she got a good look at me. “You’re going to give Leslie a heart attack.”
“Let’s hope not. She’s not a bad mayor.”
“Fuck, I missed you. Promise you’ll never leave the city again.”
“I’ll give it my best.”
English looped her arm with mine. “What took you so long anyway?”
“Well … I ran into Gavin King.”
English choked. “You’re kidding?” Her smile was predatory. “How was that?”
“It was … I don’t know.”
I never could judge Gavin exactly. I’d been his wingman for so long. I watched him go home with more women than I could count on both hands. I’d never been jealous until we slept together. And even then, I’d had no right to be jealous.
But still … I didn’t know if his flirting was him being his normal self around me or if it meant more. The look in his eyes right before I left had made me reconsider moving back. I couldn’t do this if he wanted to talk about what had happened. I’d moved on. I was well past that moment in my life. I might have feelings for him still, but that didn’t mean I needed to act on them.
“Oh, you’re going to hook up again.”
I scoffed. “Bad idea. We all know what happened last time.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Bad girlfriend. I know the drill, Whit. You’re the one who gets revenge and who leaves behind glitter bombs on ceiling fans and watches the world burn before admitting that someone hurt you.”
I bristled under that assessment, but somehow, from English, it was almost affectionate.
“But Gavin isn’t dating anyone.”
“He never is.”
“No,” she said, pulling me to a halt before we reached the tearoom. “Like, he hasn’t even been bringing anyone to events.”
I snorted. “Okay. Sure. He just told me he took home the girl he brought to your engagement party.”
She arched an eyebrow. “One, we should consider why he told you that. And two, I haven’t seen him with anyone since then.”
