Page 113 of That Friendzone Feeling
“Walkerand me, we’re tog—”
“Yes,Iheard.”Saracouldn’t sound happier if she’d met the love of her own life. “I’mjust going to need a minute to process that.”
“Surprised?”
“Thatyou’re together?No.Notat all.You’veobviously been made for each other since day one.”
“Really?Walkersays his family thought exactly the same thing.”
“Ofcourse they did.Theonly thing that surprises me is that you finally figured it out yourself, gave up on theawful types you thoughtMomandDadwould like, and let yourself do it.”
So, just like theDashwoodsdid withWalker, she’d said nothing and left it to me to realize that whatIneeded was right in front of me the whole time.
“Yeah, well,Ifinally saw the light.He’samazing.”
“Heis.You’rea lucky woman.AndI’llbe lucky to have him as a brother-in-law.”
Iblow a breath that ripples my lips. “Oh, now hold your horses.”
“Ha.Itwon’t be long,Ibet you.Andyour babies will besobeautiful.”
“Calmyourself,Sara.Wehaven’t even officially been together for twenty-four hours yet.There’splenty of time for me to screw it up.”
“Youwon’t.Hewon’t let you.”
Thenoise of the shower stops.
“Ihope you’re right.ButI’mnot sureMomandDadwill be ecstatically happy.Hemight be the co-owner of an almost billion-dollar company, but he’s built it on making beer, not on trading stocks or futures or hedge funds or whatever all the boring shit is that all those guys used to tell me about.”
“Thenthey’ll have to disown us both, won’t they?”
MaybeSaraandIfinally have something in common.Whoknew it would be our parents who unwittingly brought us together?
“Perhapsthere’s safety in numbers,”Itell her.
“Whatdo you mean?”
“Maybewe could go disappoint them together.Youcan tell them you want to change career paths, andI’lltell themI’mshacked up with a blue collar almost-billionaire.”
“Oh, hell,Em.Areyou serious?Thatwould be amazing.”
“Mightnot be.Couldbe fucking terrible.Theymight fly off all the handles.”
Walkerwanders in from the bathroom, a towel tied around his waist, grooves in his wet hair where he’s raked his fingers through it.Theman’s a god.Inall ways, not just physically.Though, right now, allIwant to do is snatch off that towel with my teeth and pull him back onto the bed.
“Yeah, but if you’re there too, it would make all the difference,”Sarasays.
“Okay, get yourself through the next month at this fancy concert hall with the hoity-toity orchestra, and when it’s over, we’ll go see them together.Wecan support each other through it.”
Animage of a shiny invitation sitting ignored at the bottom of my to-do pile passes across my mind, and guilt creeps through me. “Oh, andWalkerandIwill definitely be there for you atCarnegieHallinJune.”
“That’sall amazing.Thankyou.”Herbreath catches.Shemight be about to burst into tears again. “I’mso glad you finally called.”
“Metoo.Ilove you.Andyou can call me whenever you like.Ifyou’re having a hard time, just call.I’llpick up.”
“Youmight regret that if the principal cellist continues to be as much of a dick as he has been in rehearsal.”
“Anytime.Anddon’t worry anymore.We’lldo this together.”
