Page 63 of Crazy About Love (All About Love)

I jolt back at her sudden outburst and watch the people passing give us amused grins.

“Well, I grabbed everyone’s attention in there, and I think…Theresa, I’m pretty sure they left. Your co-worker—what’s-her-face, the one with the chunky necklace—she said that all the winners paid and that some left with their bachelors. She’s almost positive she saw Rian leave out the back with Alec.”

My shoulders slump in a heap under the massively fluffy fabric of Liz’s coat. I can feel the weight of a three-thousand-dollar grand gesture searing a hole in my pocket. A sudden craving for chocolate hits me, and I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth, wishing I had access to a peanut butter cup.

“Well, I love you for trying,” I say with a long sigh. “You’re the only person I know who’d bribe their best friend’s competition.”

She attempts a smile. Her bottom lip trembles and she pulls it with her teeth to try to get it to stop.

“Liz, you’re not crying, are you?”

“Kind of,” she croaks. “I might just be shivering.”

I quickly switch outerwear with her, and she starts shaking her head sorrowfully at me as I button up the jacket over the purple cocktail dress that we found after returning the yellow one. I wrap the red scarf around my neck, and she looks at it with even more sorrow. This was originally Alec’s scarf.

“This was supposed to be your night,” she says with the tone of someone who’s just lost their beloved pet. My defeated heart thumps sadly in agreement, but my mouth says something else.

“We’ve had lots of nights.” I tuck my arms in, feeling the briskness in the air now that I’m not in an overstuffed winter coat. “We’ll get another one.”

“If he doesn’t get swept away by Miss Famous.”

I put my hand to my heart. “Thank you so much for your optimism.”

She frowns. “I’m sorry.”

But she’s just put color into a painting I was already forming in my head. Long, sexy looks. A romantic dinner. Clever conversation. Fun touches that turn into flirty touches that turn into intimate ones. And they’re all with Rian and not me. Each image nibbles at my brain, taking more and more with every bite until my head is completely consumed by the worst of the worst of images. I shake my head furiously at our feet.

“Can we just…can you hang out with me until midnight? Distract me from all the scenarios playing in my head right now? I don’t want to think about what they might be doing or if he’ll even be around at midnight to call or…No, no, I don’t want to imagine it. Distract me, please?”

“Sure,” she says after a moment’s pause. I smile and turn, only to have her grab my arm. “Wait…no.”

“What?”

Her eyes widen. “No. I’m not going to distract you.”

I cross my arms and let out a huff. “You are losing best-friend points.”

She looks at me with the eyes of someone who has just had an epiphany. Her hand grips my forearm with the strength of He-Man. “How many times have you let him walk away, or he let you walk away? You said it already—you’ve had so many nights together. Don’t just let things happen this time, Theresa.Makethem happen.”

“Hollywood has fried your brain,” I tell her, not even joking about it. What she’s describing is a movie plot.

“Maybe the movies have it right.” Her grip hasn’t loosened. “Maybe instead of going home and watching hours of Jensen Ackles defeat paranormal activity and dreaming of having a man that handsome in your life, you actually go find the real-life man and tell him how you feel. Make a fool of yourself, be obnoxious and crazy, and do it becausethis is your night. Then you guys can kiss and make love all over his apartment and get married and your babies will be friends with my babies and we’ll all celebrate holidays and birthdays and go through life together until we’re old and sitting on the front porch and Landon will be across from his best friend and I’ll be across from mine and we’ll all be holding hands—”

“And singing kumbaya and wearing matching ugly Christmas sweaters and having joint Tupperware parties.”

“Admit it—that sounds awesome.”

I purse my lips but say nothing, silently giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she’s right. I want all that—maybe not in the Stepford Wives kind of way, but I do want that kind of life and love, and I want it with Alec.

“What could I even do at this point? He left.”

“Call him.”

“He won’t answer. Not if he’s out on a date.”

Her eyebrows rise, and she lets out a tiny excited squeal. “He will if Landon calls.”

“Why?”

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