Page 68 of The Sidekick

“Then she left the ball in your court. Stop whining and start planning.”

“What?” My brows furrow, and my rage is stunned into silence.

He sighs as if I’m an idiot. I feel like an idiot, stumbling around in the dark without direction. I can’t ask Trevor for advice. He’s proven that he has his head up his own ass over her.

“Are you going to back off or try again?”

I contemplate his words as I drink. Am I actually considering giving up right when she got back? He’s right that her disbelief is credible. Maybe if I keep trying to tell her the truth, she might hear me instead of placidly listening.

“Try again,” I answer firmly.

“I’m so proud,” he deadpans and picks up another mat.

“I’ll try as many times as it takes,” I glare at him.

“Good for you.”

“Why do you sound so fucking flat when you talk about me and halfway happy when you talk about her?” I demand in exasperation.

“How many sisters do I have, Max?” His lips quirk up in a fake, serene smile, and I wince.

“Three?”

“Four. Do you know how often I’ve had to sit and listen to them cry over guys?”

“I don’t want to,” I pout like an ass.

“I lost count a long time ago. I’m always going to side with your girl. Sorry,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“The ball is in my court,” I mutter as I ignore his mocking to start working on my kicks. “I have her number. I can call.”

Asher scoffs.

“What? What the fuck would you do?” I snap.

“Let’s not step out of reality and assume it would happen to me,” he smirks, all fucking smug about his untouchable emotions. The dick.

“I’ll call her,” I insist through gritted teeth, daring him to say something about it. An eyebrow arches, and he shrugs. My feeling of victory only lasts a second. “Shit. She’d want to meet up and shut me down.”

“Then don’t meet up. Keep it on the phone.” He’s beginning to sound impatient, but I latch onto the advice.

“That might work,” I frown and think of the pitfalls in the logic. “What if she starts crying? Fuck I hate it when she cries because I can’t do shit to stop it.”

“Text then,” Asher lets out a frustrated grunt and shoves me with the mat. “When you think it’s safe, ask to meet up.”

“Fuck you,” I say absently and start kicking again. I love and hate this friendship in equal measure.

Babygirl,

Burn that last letter. I know why you left, and I fucking hate myself for it. I’m one of the dicks that drove you away. One of those people that I hate. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for it, and I can’t take it back. I can’t write it down and burn it. I want to so much.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tera

Max:Good morning.

I stare at the text with a frown. He’s texted me every morning since I’ve gotten back. I’ve asked him several times if we could meet up and talk, but he’s been too busy. Or so he says.

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