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I bite my tongue because expressing my feelings to a good friend will only end in disaster. One accidental slip to Andy, and he’ll probably tell Jessa. Then, the whole Edwards family will know.
“Yeah, I think Lex said she was busy.”
“I might call her later. So, we’re good for next week?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, see you then.”
We hang up the call, which prompts me to finish the remains inside the bottle. The final drop is tasteless, or perhaps I’m finally numb.
Not long after, my head begins to spin. I stumble toward my bed then fall face-first onto the pillow.
It smells just like her.
The pain stabs my chest directly in the center.
If this is what falling in love feels like, then I call bullshit.
I’m not going to be second best.
Not to a man who is my own flesh and blood.
Eighteen
Addison
The drive back home is uneventful, and I’m consumed with guilt.
I heard the car screech off into the night, a sound charged with raw emotion which lingered well after it was gone.
The guilt ate away at me like a parasite feasting upon its prey because I’m responsible for the anger Masen is exhibiting. There wasn’t a moment to explain to him why I felt forced to go home with Cruz. In the flash of an eye, he walked to his car and drove away without a goodbye.
My phone is resting in my hand, but I resist texting him in case he’s still driving. If anything happened to Masen, I would never be able to forgive myself.
Cruz presses the volume button and cranks up the music to drown out the silence. Usually, I’d argue and turn it down. Yet, the noise is a welcome distraction from the chaos going on inside my head.
At the apartment, the weight of tonight’s events begins catching up to me. I let out a yawn, rubbing my eyes to stay awake. Then, I remember Cruz needs to talk. According to him, it’s that important I needed to come home, and it can’t wait until the morning.
“You wanted to talk?”
Sitting on the table is a bottle of gin. I hadn’t noticed it earlier today, wondering where it came from. As I sit on one end of the couch, resting my elbow on the side to use it to support my tired head, Cruz unscrews the bottle and drinks straight from it.
He expels a rasp, then drinks more.
“You might want to slow down,” I suggest.
Cruz paces the area in front of the coffee table, his nervous mannerisms piquing my curiosity. Suddenly, I begin to panic. What if something is wrong with him? He’s not a shy guy at all, and our friendship has been built on honesty.Yeah, except you’ve been dishonest of late.
“So, um, at my meeting today, I’ve been requested to complete a physical and mental test for the coach and general manager of a top-winning team.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “That’s amazing, right? Wait, why don’t you look happy?”
Cruz pauses, then aligns his gaze onto me. “It’s in San Francisco.”
I tilt my head in confusion. “And? That’s only a short drive away.”
Cruz moves toward the couch, sitting right next to me. He places his hand on mine as I wait for the story to unfold. Surely, there must be more to this. I knew he wanted to stay here, but San Francisco isn’t that far either. At least, it’s still in California.
“Addy, I can’t leave you,” he confesses in a low voice.
