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He rubs a hand over his head, his lips tipping down. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He pauses, glancing out into the carpark before back to me. “Do you want to grab something to eat?”
I wasn’t lying earlier when I said I feel sick. I’ve had an upset stomach since the field, and it’s only gotten worse since leaving. It’s the anxiety and stress over the situation, knowing I probably reacted worse than I should have.
“It’s fine. Just, please, give him a chance. If he does step out of line, you can say whatever you want about him. I promise.” I return the relieved smile he gives me. “As for food, I couldn’t eat even if I wanted to. I’m really not feeling all that great. I’m gonna go lie down. Maybe tomorrow?”
His shoulders slump, his entire expression crumbling. “Yeah, sounds good.”
I feel bad for letting him down. I hate that look on his face, the one that makes me feel like I just killed his puppy.
Needing him to know I’m not mad, I move forward, pulling him into my arms and squeezing him to death. “You’re one of my best friends. You know that, right?” I pull back when I feel him nod against my shoulder. Meeting his gaze, I beam at him. “I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”
He smiles at that. “Good, so you won’t kill me when I tell you that the lift is out again?”
I glance at the building behind me, narrowing my eyes with hate. “I really hate this building.”
He chuckles. “I’ll let you get started on your mission. Message me tomorrow when you’re free.”
I nod, waving goodbye before facing my enemy. With one deep breath, I move forward, taking it one step at a time. By the time I open the door to the stair access, I can already feel sweat running down my spine. And I haven’t even walked the first flight yet.
“Please, God, if you can hear me, don’t let me have a heart attack on these stairs.”
With each flight, the worse I feel—and no doubt, look. I’m wheezing and clinging to the banister like my life depends on it.
With the rate I’m going, the others will be back from the game before I reach our floor.
With one more flight to go, I pull my shit together, wiping away the sweat from my forehead and hair that clings to my skin.
When I reach our floor, I’m too exhausted to even cheer for another success in reaching the top. I’d probably collapse if I even showed enthusiasm.
When I burst into the flat, everyone in the kitchen turns to me.
“Oh my,” Milly says, her hand covering her mouth.
I can picture what I look like: a hairy cat that’s soaking wet. Attractive, I know.
I wheeze, putting my hand up to stop her from coming to help me. “I’m fine.”
Rosie giggles, but bless her heart, she does try to cover it. Jordan, however, laughs outright, slapping her thigh.
“She hates exercise,” Rosie informs Milly.
Milly still looks unsure, her feet twitching to come to me. I’d laugh, but unfortunately, I’ve seen pictures of me in this state. It’s not a good look at all.
“But she’s so fit and skinny.”
Jordan scoffs, handing me a bottle of water. “Don’t remind us. If she wasn’t so sweet, I’d hate her.”
Getting my breath back, I glare at my friend. “No, you wouldn’t.”
She laughs, shaking her head at me. “Why aren’t you at the game.”
I point at Milly whilst taking long gulp of water.
“Me?” she asks, sounding confused.
I nod, twisting the lid back on. “Your son. I was mad about him ignoring me and flirting with another girl. Now, I’m too pissed at the maintenance guy. If I wrote fiction novels, I’d totally kill him off in my book.”
The girls laugh, and I’m about to defend myself and explain my reasons, but my ringtone starts playing.
