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“What am I going to say? ‘Why did you send Jason over to my house to get my number when I thought you liked me?’That sounds so stupid.”
“That sounds like the truth. Guys are idiots, Len. You have to spell everything out for them. Grant probably has no idea that you’re into him.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my head on the steering wheel. “How could he not know? I literally dry humped him on his bed.”
Simone sighs. “Look, I’m your best friend, and I know you better than anyone else. I know what’s going to happen. You’re waiting until you don’t feel upset anymore, and then you’re going to let it blow over and not tell him anything. But the pain is still sitting there inside of you. It doesn’t just disappear. You have to tell him how you feel, regardless of how he feels. It’s not about him. It’s about you speaking your truth.”
A frown tugs at my lips. “I hate when you call me out on my shit.”
When Jason showed up at my door on Friday night, I politely told him that I wasn’t interested and said goodnight. But I was angry. I wanted to march over to Grant’s house and yell at him for sending his friend over to my house like that. Instead, I’ve been avoiding him like a coward for the last couple of days.
But avoiding him means avoiding Noah, and I won’t keep doing that to her.
“You’re afraid to put yourself out on a limb because you don’t want to get knocked off it. But love is all about taking chances. The scarier it is, the more important it is. So, speak your truth. Follow your heart. And any other Pinterest quotes you need—pretend I said them.”
I sit back and let my head fall against the headrest. “You’re right.”
“I know I am. Go home, and call me later and let me know what happens.”
I hang up, and before I pull up to my house, I shoot Grant a quick text.
Me:Better. Be there in 5.
I runinside my house to change into something comfortable. Then I jog across the street and ring his doorbell.
Grant swings open the door and my heart leaps into my throat at the sight of him in a white T-shirt with those damn gray sweatpants. It’s only been four days, but it feels like longer.
“Hey.”
I slip my hands into my coat pockets to keep them from reaching out for him. “Hey. Can you come outside for a minute? I need to talk to you, and I don’t want Noah to hear.”
“Sure.” He steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him. “Is everything okay?”
My nervous stomach ties itself into a knot. “No, actually. I’m mad at you.”
His eyebrows jump. “What did I do?”
My hands ball into fists, and I fight to keep my breathing even.
Don’t word-vomit. Don’t word-vomit.
“Your friend Jason came to my house the other night. He asked for my number.”
Grant folds his arms across his chest. “I know.”
“He said you told him it was okay.”
He nods. “I did.”
He’s so calm and collected, unaffected as if he doesn’t care one bit.
How could he not care? Has everything between us been one-sided? Am I the only one who feels something between us?
My anger rises like a mounting wave. “I told him I wasn’t interested.”
His head tilts. “Why not?”
“Why not?” I let out a maniacal laugh. “Because I’m interested inyou, you idiot!”
