Page 93 of The Friend Situation

“Lena did. You see how that worked out.” His eyes are unfocused.

“Did it burn her skin and leave a scar?” I ask, snorting.

“I can’t wait to tell Easton your adorable little theory.”

I need to distract myself from my runaway thoughts.

“Our watches are identical, except for the inside. His says?—”

“Love is always on time,” I finish. “I know. He’s shoved that personal motto down my throat since I started hanging out with them.”

“And what’s your opinion on it?” he asks, the conversation humming with a carefree ease.

“It’s a nice thought. I’m just a little upset that we can’t choosewhenwe fall in love. It chooses us. If I could snap my fingers and make it happen, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

I grab my coffee mug, holding it in my hands and feeling the warmth of the liquid inside. I shouldn’t drink caffeine this late at night, considering I need to be up early for work, but the experience is worth it.

He shakes his head. “I call bullshit on that statement. Without the chase, you’d get bored. From zero to love in a snap? Nah. You like the journey too much, not the destination.”

“I think it depends.” I smile. “If I met someone and knew deep down that we’d be really,reallygood together and my heart wasn’t cooperating, that’s when I’d flip the switch. Usually, my heart and my brain don’t get along. The men I shouldn’t want, I do.”

I shrug, and I almost imagine us. The thought vanishes faster than it arrived. I swallow hard, knowing that shouldn’t happen without me being three martinis deep for the night.

“I’ve dated several genuinely nice guys. I wish I could’ve reciprocated how they felt, but I can’t fake it. I might be alone forever.” The realization haunts me.

Weston’s eyes don’t leave me as steam rises from my coffee. I pick it up and drink.

“You won’t be alone forever. One day, you’ll find your person and be really happy.”

“So will you.”

Unspoken words and unfinished thoughts swirl around us.

“I don’t know.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I wish things were different.”

A smile dances on my lips. “I don’t.”

The confession hangs in the air, and I can feel my own defenses crumbling. We’re just another couple in a crowded diner, yet somehow, it feels like we’re the only ones in the room.

He opens his mouth to speak.

I shake my head, interrupting him. “I won’t stop reminding you that you’re a good person who deserves to find someone wholoves you exactly as you are. And, oh my God, you’re going to make whoever she issohappy that it’ll be a thousand timesmoredisgusting than Easton and Lexi. Wet, sloppy kisses and all. I’ve already ordered barf bags, so I’m ready,” I say, knowing real love is what Weston wishes for. I hope he gets it. I’d love to see him happy again, but permanently. I lean against the pleated booth seat.

He doesn’t respond, so I keep the conversation moving forward.

“There’s a diner in my hometown that’s similar to this. The owner wears ruby-red slippers. The food is incredible. Fresh pies are baked daily and sold by the slice at the front counter by the door. I kinda miss it. Her chicken salad sandwich on a croissant is to die for.”

“We should visit,” he suggests. “I love chicken salad sandwiches.”

“With pineapple or without?” I ask. “This is very important. It might even demote your bestie status.”

“Really? Without,” he states without hesitation.

I make a face, then smile. “Right answer. My hometown is very different from here. Christmas is three hundred sixty-five days out of the year. If you dislike the holidays and all things Santa, you might want to avoid it.”

“What about next week?”

“My mom would love that.” I smile, imagining a surprise visit. There would be fanfare, especially with Weston joining me. “My family is a lot to handle. My brothers will probably try to murder you. My sister will try to sleep with you. My mother will ask when you’re putting a ring on it. And Mawmaw? She might keep you for herself and turn you into her gardener, the one she’s been fantasizing about since she turned seventy.”

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