Page 83 of Hotter in the Hamptons

Aly jumped in. “Hey, man, it’s none of my business, but don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her?”

“You’re right. It isn’t any of your business.”

Aly held her hands up in surrender.

Ryan continued, “And what the fuck is that huge box outside?”

“A sewing machine,” Lola whispered.

“Asewing machine?” Ryan repeated. “How the hell do you plan on taking it back to Soho?” He paused for a beat and then laughed cruelly. “Oh, I see. You’re just going to leave it here and make Giancarlo deal with it. Sounds familiar.”

“Ryan, stop!” she cried. “Just stop. Okay? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I let it get to this point that you had to yell at me like this for me to hear you. But I hear you, okay? I really, really hear you.”

And she did. She knew he was right. She’d come out here for a summer of friendship and introspection and had instead become totally obsessed with the enemy next door, ditching both Ryanandherself in the process. How quickly had she kicked aside that sewing machine on the doorstep? How easy had it been to forget how terribleshe felt even before Aly’s article tore down her life?

“I’m so sorry that I forgot about meeting Emmett and that I haven’t let you tell me about him all summer.”

Ryan threw his hands up in the air. “How long have you known me? Twelve years? And how many guys have you seen me with over that time? A dozen? A hundred? Have you ever heard me say anything about being in love before?”

“No.” Lola frowned.

“No,” Ryan repeated. “This is a wholly new situation, and you just…you bailed on me for it. I really needed my best friend.”

Ryan was softening. Lola could see it.

“Can we reschedule?” she begged.

“It’s not even about the goddamn dinner,” he said. “It’s about you not being here for me at all, ever. Sure, fine, we can reschedule the dinner. But we can’t reschedule all the times you’ve flaked on me since we got here. All the times I was talking to you and you literally didn’t hear a thing I said or when you were just gone completely, nowhere to be found for days and days.”

“I know,” she said. She felt like her heart was breaking. The thought of hurting Ryan—who had been with her through the toughest shit of her life—was too much to bear. “I know I won’t get a do-over. All I can do is promise to do better starting now. And I do promise.”

He looked at her warily. “I don’t want to get my feelings hurt again,” he said. “It’s easier to just expect nothing from you.”

Lola felt the hard truth scrape through her middle. How had she let herself become this person? She had to fix it. She would.

“I won’t let you down again,” she said, her voice strained with desperation.

“What if we all had dinner at my house?” Aly offered. “I’ll cook.We can do it tomorrow.”

Ryan had always been dying to be friends with Aly. He’d never pass up an invite for dinner at her house, regardless of how angry he was with Lola.

“It’s kind of last minute,” he said, feigning hesitation. “I’ll have to check my calendar.”

“Please do,” Aly said. “And let me know. I would love to have you all over.”

“It’ll be like the fucking Gay Straight Alliance,” Ryan said.

There was a tense pause, and then they all started laughing.

Lola flew off the couch and pulled Ryan into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I’m the worst,” she said.

“You really are,” he said, hugging her back. “And I can do tomorrow,” he added, not having checked his calendar.

Lola grinned. “I had a feeling.”

He pulled away, a smile tugging his mouth up. “Oh, and I do have some pants that need hemming. Since you have a new sewing machine and all.”

“Whatever you need,” Lola said, and she meant it.

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