"You're gonna realize it one day."
"Fat chance."
He nodshell yes.
It's ridiculous, but I'm not going to argue. It only encourages him.
Wes has been pushing thisyou're in love with Jules thingfor ages. I appreciate the intention—I always want to hear the truth, even if it hurts—but he's dead wrong.
"Explain something to me, Griff." He rests his ass against the wall separating my suite and Brendon's.
"Yeah?" I stare at my cell, but it doesn't conjure a text from my best friend.
"Mr. Boring was a snooze."
"What do you need explained? Seems like you have it figured out."
"Your best friend is free of the weight around her neck. How is this a bad thing?"
It's a fair question. I appreciate that. I should have an answer.
I should go with my first impulse.
The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. No matter how badly it hurts. That's my motto. It serves me well, even if it convinces some people I'm a tactless asshole.
Right now…
What the hell can I say?
This isn't a bad thing. It's a great thing. Jules is free. It might hurt for a while—she was with Jackson forever—but it's a good thing.
Shit. That's it. "She's probably not happy about it."
"You're worried about her?"
"No shit, Sherlock." My teeth sink into my lip. I'm worried about my best friend. That's all this is.
I hurt when Jules hurts.
Fuck, nothing hurts more than her hurt.
"Griff?" He leans in to whisper. "This shop is full of nosy assholes."
"Yourself included." I try to find lightness, but my shoulders stay heavy.
Wes laughs as he flips me off. "Maybe you should get out of here. Go to her place. Talk to her.”
"No shit." My phone buzzes against my thigh. The screen flashes with that pic of me and Jules at the beach.
We've got orange wedges in our mouths and we're making stupid faces. We're happy. She's happy.
Wes shakes his headyou're so into her.
I ignore him. Focus every ounce of my attention on her message.
Jules: You want to get out of town for a few days?
There isn't a single mention of her breakup. Her mood. Her living arrangements.