Page 101 of Ten Rules for Faking It
The muscles wouldn’t loosen, and it felt like her heartstrings were looping themselves around her ribs, pulling corset-tight. “We shouldn’t be, anyway.”
“Fine. You want to pretend you feel nothing, fine. That’s great. Let’s do that.”
Tears pressed. “Okay.”
“Seriously?”
She stood up, irritation and sadness pulling her in opposite directions. She stalked closer. “Yes. Seriously. Why mess things up? I care about you. We’re friends. Looking for more is a risk I don’t want to take. Especially with someone who has no staying power.”
“Excuse me?”
She stepped closer, her vision tunneling a little. “You heard me. What do you want? You want to date me? Sleep together? Hook up? You clearly don’t believe in putting your all into a relationship, working it out no matter what.” She knew she was being unfair, possibly even taking a bit of her anger at her parents out on him. Even knowing, she couldn’t stop herself.Self-sabotage. So much easier in the long run.
His face lowered so they were almost nose to nose. The scent of his cologne along with the heat of his body, the heat in his eyes, messed with her head.
“No matter what? What about your ex? He cheated on you. You think you should have stayed with him despite that? Huh? Pressed through the tough times and forgiven him?”
Everly lifted her hands, unsure what to do with them, and then crossed them tightly across her chest. “That’s different. We weren’t married.”
“Fuck, Everly. Neither are we. I just said I had feelings for you, and somehow that’s led to you not only judging me for mistakes I made when I was twenty-one goddamned years old but also deciding I’m not fit for long-term boyfriend material. People get married. They get divorced. The world isn’t black and white. Bad things happen. Hard decisions get made. You don’t get to make decisions about who Iambased on one thing from my past. Any more than I should do that to you. Look at who I am now. That’s all I’m asking you to do. Look atme.Right now.”
His voice was rough. Tears filled Everly’s eyes. She blinked them away, swiping at the few that escaped.
“I want to get married one day. I’m tired of playing around, wasting time. I want someone who won’t give up. Who won’t give in. I’m not exactly low maintenance,” she said, her voice breaking. He reached for her, but she stepped back. “I can’t fall for someone who will run when things get hard.”
Chris’s eyes widened as they filled with hurt. She immediately regretted her words, not just because of how they clearly impacted him but also because he’d never given her a reason to doubt him. She, of all people, should know better than to judge a person based on one thing. Would she want to be seen only for her anxiety? There was so much more to her than that one thing. This man, standing in front of her like she’d wrecked him, had believed in, trusted, lifted her. He made her laugh, think, and want to try harder. He made her wonder what it would be like to fall in love without a safety net. He made her want that. He saw her as she really was—anxiety and all. She was throwing that away because she couldn’t stand the uncertainty. Tears clogged her throat.
Chris cleared his throat. Stepping toward her with more compassion shining in his gaze than she deserved. “I just wantto point out that all this time, I’ve been fighting what I feel for you. Every bump that’s come along with getting closer to you, getting to know you and be your friend? It hasn’t been me running, Everly. Not once. It’s been you, every time.”
Something—desperation or panic—clawed at her, making her lungs fail. She gasped for breath and let out a sob.
Chris reached for her but dropped his hand when she shook her head rapidly. “There are no guarantees in life, Everly. That doesn’t mean you can’t trust what I feel is real. That it could, that itwould,last.”
He left. Everly went to the door and locked it, smacked her hand against the hard wood, then lowered her forehead to it, not fighting the tears that fell. Angry at herself, at him, at her parents, at how much she wanted to go after Chris and how much she wanted to disappear and pretend they hadn’t met, she let herself cry, muffling her sobs in her hands as she sank down to the floor.
[34]
Everly did something she’d never done before. Ever. She called in sick two days in a row when she wasn’t sick. Her date with Owen was tonight. Though she still felt some lingering guilt, she’d had a quick lunch date with Jon, more to tell him that she’d made her choice than because she was torn between the two bachelors. Nope. That’s not what she was torn about. If she barreled forward, didn’t give herself time to think—oroverthink,as was her norm—she felt good. Buoyed. One foot in front of the other, she was taking charge of getting what she wanted out of life.
After Chris left the other night, after she’d pulled herself up from the floor, dusted herself off, and put her overwrought feelings on a shelf, things had been clearer. She’d known what she needed to do.
The past few days, before she’d straightened herself out, were mired in a Chris-haze. Sure, his words woke her up at night once she’d managed to fall asleep. That gave her the perfect motivation to paint her bedroom pale blue, staying awake until she’d all but crashed into the tray of paint. Wednesday morning, she put on a brave face before heading into work, surprised at the relief she felt when it turned out that Chris wasn’t there. She’d slipped out of work, telling Stacey what she was up to as she ran out the door. By the end of the evening,her life was going to be in perfect order, and she’d finally be able to breathe.
Everly drove to one of her favorite restaurants, keeping her brain busy by singing along, badly, to a song she liked. When she arrived, the parking lot was nearly empty. The lunch rush crowd would have finished up earlier. She spotted her mother’s car and went into the restaurant, squeezing her hands into fists.
Her mom waited in the lobby. They embraced and then turned to reply to the hostess who’d greeted them.
“Two?” the woman asked.
The door opened behind them, and Everly glanced over her shoulder, her stomach and heart colliding into each other. She looked back at the hostess. “Three.”
“What?” Her mother turned and saw her father and stiffened at her side. “Everly.”
“What’s going on?” her dad asked, staring at his wife. Everly noticed the spark of longing in his gaze, giving her hope that her plan wouldn’t push both of them away from her. It was a chance she needed to take.Ha. See? I can totally take risks without knowing the outcome.
“We’re having lunch,” Everly said, her voice rigid as she gestured to the hostess, who was waiting to lead them to a table.
They settled around the table, all of them flashing fake smiles until the hostess left, promising the waitress would be right with them.
