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I set aside my tablet while Carrie is still messing up her love life and compose a group text to the three guys before I can talk myself out of it.
How are you all doing?
I lean my head on my chair back, and when my phone vibrates, I nearly drop it.
It’s just Cami.
Sorry, Cami.
She wants to know if I want Chinese for dinner. Sure, why not?
As the minutes tick by with no response from any of the guys—not a single one of them—I keep questioning my choices. Was I acting out of fear, pride, and foolishness?
Maybe all three?
I’ve never been that good at walking away from things that aren’t working. Case in point, my loser ex. Now, maybe I’m too good at it.
Regret settles on my shoulders like a concrete weight, pushing me toward a despair I haven’t felt since… well, the business with the ex. I guess I thought I was saving myself from the heartbreak of trying to date three guys, but I think I might have, stupidly, broken my own heart.
Is that even possible?
The fact of the matter is, I kicked them to the curb not only because they weren’t right for me, but also because I was scared shitless. Scared of intimacy, scared of love, and scared of commitment.
So. Freaking. Lame.
And now here I am, camping out at Cami and Steve’s, my belongings crammed into their guest room, watching a twenty-year-old TV rerun, and waiting for my Chinese takeout to arrive.
Living large, yup, that’s me.
I thought giving the guys the heave-ho would declutter my love life, but now it just feels like I threw a winning lottery ticket out the window. Or three.
Fuck me. What have I done?
I chuck a pillow across the room, only succeeding in knocking over a big pile of books, andnotmaking myself feel better. I look at my phone and while no more messages are coming through, not from the guys or anyone, I realize I really fucked up my life. Hindsight is 20/20 or however that saying goes, but right now it’s just giving me the middle finger. All my efforts to dodge potential drama set me up for nothing more than the pathetic state I’m in right now.
In my haste to protect my cold, hard heart, I eliminated the guys by their individual quirks, rather than looking at them all together, where they fit perfectly to make a potentially beautiful love story.
There’s a knock on my door and Cami pokes her head in. One look at my face, and she knows everything. She comes and takes me by the hand to peel me out of my green chair, and leads me to the kitchen where she’s made me a plate of the Chinese food she brought home. Steve looks up from his plate and just smiles, doing a great job of reading the room and realizing it isn’t the right time to ask about anyone’s day or weekend plans.
The ache in my chest refuses to go away, even after I choke down a couple bites of my favorite lo mein, but having friends like these two walk with me through my sadness is the best kind of dinner a girl could have.
* * *
54
LEO
It’s killing me.Just killing me.
I want nothing more than to respond to Ava’s text reaching out to Jasper, Ethan, and me. But we promised each other we wouldn’t. We want to give our girl—yes, I saidour girl—time to think, and organize our next steps.
Which should be a doozy.
We told Ava’s boss Glenda what we were up to, and she called what we’re doing the ‘grand gesture.’ She waved us away with her blessing, in part because I think she has a thing going with my boss and knows I’m a nice guy.
Who said theseGlistenladies don’t like jocks?
Grand gesture or not, we guys are taking a risk. I guess the worst Ava can say to our offer is to go to hell and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out. That would hurt, but I suppose it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Guys are used to rejection. Happens all the time.
