Page 38 of Just Friends Forever
“I’ve been a terrible friend to you, and you were there formeat the drop of a hat last week. You never stopped checking on me, even though I was awful at responding.”
I break my gaze away, not sure if my loyalty is impressive or pathetic.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you and I’m sorry and that… I missed you. I missed our friendship.”
I take a moment before responding because I’ve got an emergency case of emotional clogging in my throat. “Me too.”
She smiles sadly and wraps her arms around me. I pull her closer and let my head rest against her hair, shutting my eyes. I never admitted it to anyone, but it stung when she all but disappeared from my life. I blamed Curtis, but deep down, it just… hurt.
“I promise to start being the sort of friend to you that you’ve been to me,” she says into my shoulder.
The sort of friend I’ve been to her. I wonder if she knows what sort of friend that really is. I wonder ifIknow what sort of friend that is—or if it’s really friendship I want.
The door opens at the top of the stairs, and Stevie and I pull apart.
Tori and Siena stare down at us, brows raised.
13
STEVIE
Based on their expressions,Troy and I hugging it out wasn’t what Siena and Tori expected to find when they arrived. Are they shocked by my behavior? Maybe Ishouldn’tbe hugging Troy. I have no idea what’s acceptable for a divorcée, and the way I’ve been looking at Troy today makes things even more confusing.
Him going on a date is exactly what’s needed right now.
“STEPHANIE!” Siena comes down the stairs so quickly, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip and fall on her face.
Before I know it, her arms are around me, and before she’s let me go, Tori’s hugging me too.
The amount of hugging I’ve experienced in the last two minutes is the most physical affection I’ve had in… well, let’s just say it’s been a while. The Sheppards give the best hugs, and I’ve been deprived for the past four years.
The general excitement from the Sheppard sisters takes a minute to dissipate. In fact, it’s a full three minutes before they even acknowledge Troy.
“Oh, hey,” Siena says once she’s turned toward him. She looks him up and down. “Are you going on a date or attending a funeral?”
“You don’t wear jeans to a funeral, Siena,” Tori says. “I think he looks very chic. Doesn’t he look great?” She nudges me.
My heart knocks against my chest as Troy looks at me, waiting for me to respond. Howdoesa just-divorced woman compliment the best friend she’s recently started checking out right before he leaves on a date? No one ever went over the rules with me on this.
Lyla.He’s going out with Lyla. He’s trying to look his best for her, andyoujustpromised to be a good friend to him. A good friend would make sure he dresses to impress.
“He does,” I say in what I hope is a completely natural, objective voice. I can do this. I can be the best friend cheering Troy on for his date. My brow furrows as my eye catches his collar.
“What?” Troy brings a self-conscious hand to his chest and smooths the shirt, which is already hugging him in all the right places.
“Nothing, it’s just …” He really does look great. It just feels a bit formal. “Can I?”
He nods, his look unsure and questioning.
I step toward him and reach a hand to the collar of his shirt to do my best friend-ly duties. My fingers fiddle with the top button, which could win an award for tightest buttonhole in history. My fingers graze his throat over and over during the tussle, and my eyes flit to his for a split-second.
He’s looking at me too, and my lungs seize up. The button finally slips out, and I step back, dropping my gaze. “There. Much better.”
It’s oddly quiet, and I glance at his sisters, who are both watching us with wide eyes. My cheeks warm. There I go again, breaking the rules. I should have just let things be, but I have to admit, he looks better now: dressed up, but with a hint of recklessness. The dark pants and shirt go perfectly with his dark hair and brows, making his blue eyes stand out.
“Thanks,” Troy says, fiddling with his collar. “I should get going.” He takes his keys out of his pocket and smiles at us. “Have a great time, ladies.”
“You too,” I say with a little wave.
