Page 42 of A Little Crush
“Rory—”
“I know,” I rush out. “I know what you’re going to say, but it’s only for like a month or two, and it’ll be totally fine.”
“Totally fine.” She gives me a look like I’ve grown a second head. “Are you serious right now?”
“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal?—”
“Rory, sit down.” She tugs me to the bed and forces me to sit. “Okay, you know I love you, and I think we can both agree that you’ve always been the one with the brains in this friendship, but do you have any idea how insane this plan is?”
Yes. Yes, I do. But it’s too late. I’ve already considered my options and none of them leave Jaxon unscathed. Besides, I’m the one who butted my head into his already precarious situation. No one made me do it. It was all me. And it isn’t fair for him to take the fall or to come out looking like a liar. Right?
“Rory, please tell me why you would agree to this,” my best friend begs.
“Tatum, he needed me?—”
“So?” She snorts. “Look, I know you think you’re capable of handling being around Jaxon again, but you have to cut me some slack for being the voice of reason here. I really don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I won’t,” I promise.
“You don’t know that.”
“I think I know myself pretty well, Tate,” I argue.
“Rore.” She squeezes my hands softly. “Look, I know youthink you’re over him, and maybe you are, but do you really think it’s a good idea to travel with this guy for an entire month when you’ve barely come around to the idea of being in the same room with him without wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole?”
The girl knows me too well.
“I mean, technically it’s only two weeks,” I argue. “When Poppy’s with her mom, I’ll be home with my family and helping Jaxon interview my replacement.”
She drops her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah, because that makes it better.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” she repeats, looking less than convinced.
“Yeah. Fine.”
Her head rolls forward, and she eyes me warily. “Are there no take backs? No other options?”
She thinks I haven’t already asked that question?
Resting my elbows on my knees, I thread my fingers through the hair on top of my head and tug gently. “Not without his ex holding it over his head.”
The mattress dips beside me before Tatum rubs my back. “Which is the last thing you want.”
“And the last thing he deserves.”
“So you’re stuck.”
I nod in my hands. “I’m stuck.”
“Shit.”
A dry laugh escapes me. “Pretty much.”
“You need to promise me something,” she decides.
“What?”
