Page 64 of That Friendzone Feeling
“Ha.FendingoffLeon’splans forValentine’snight.Hewants to do a whole big number, almost like forNewYear’s.”
“Ew, not fond.Doesn’tsound very on brand.”
“Yeah,Itold him to just get some pink champagne for the nonbeer drinkers.”
Shecan’t possibly have been tied up with just that until now. “Andthat’s what kept you so late?”
Shebends over to unzip her boots. “Iwas chatting withChasetoo.Sortingthings out for tomorrow.Hevideo called me.”
Emily’sboot removal is seriously the sexiest thingI’veever seen in my life.Andnot just because lifting each leg to take them off reveals a hint of inner thigh under her dress.
Eventhe fact she’s been talking withChasecan’t take the edge off the effect of the leg glimpses.
Itdoesn’t sit well in my gut, though.
“Wow, chatting till this late?”Itake an extremely laid-back glug of beer.
“It’snot late inLA,” she says, putting down her bags.
Sheturns her back to me to unwrap and hang her coat on a hook.Myeyes are drawn to the zipper down the back of her dress.Oh, happy memories.Happy—incredibly frustrating—memories.
“Youguys must have been chatting for a while.”Obviouslyhe’s trying to butter her up ahead of her arrival tomorrow.
“Hewas telling me how things will work at the premiere.Andwe were just, you know, getting to know each other.”
Shepicks up her bags and heads toward her room.
“Didyou not see my messages?”
“Oh, yeah.Idid whenIgot off the call.ButthenIjust wanted to come home.SoIthoughtI’dsee you here.”Sheslides back her bedroom door. “Wasit important?”
“Ifyou’d just sent me one quick reply, you would have saved me a lot of worry.”
“Youreally don’t need to worry about me.”
Istare into the bottle in my hand. “YouknowIworry.Andyou know now thatIcan’t help it.”
Shedrops her bags in her room and stands in the doorway facing me, hands on hips. “Yes.Ido understand.”Shetilts her head to one side and speaks softly. “Andyou know how much it breaks my heart to know you blame yourself for your parents’ accident.Butit was anaccident.”
Oureyes lock and we stand in silence for a second.
Shelooks at the floor. “I’vebeen thinking.Ifyou won’t listen to me, maybe you should talk toTom.He’dtell you not to think like that.”
“HowcanI?Whatwould he think of me if he knew it was my fault?”
Hereyes are back on me, filled with pleadingand something else that could be mistaken for love. “He’dthink it wasnotyour fault.Andhe’d tell you that.Thenmaybe you could start unburdening yourself a bit.”
“Butlook how he suffered,Em.Thatwas all my fault too.”
Tomreally struggled withMomandDad’sdeaths and went off the rails a bit.Whenhe was sixteen,MaggieandJimthought it’d be good for him to get away from everything that reminded him of our parents for a while and sent him to stay with family inEngland.
Itwas just supposed to be for a summer to have a new experience and reset.Buthe loved it so much he never came back.Hegot himself together by throwing himself into his love of live music and bands and ended up starting his own label.
Everyonethought it was a pointless hobby until he spottedFourThousandMedicinesplaying in a pub and signed them.Oncethey took off, other bands followed, and the whole thing snowballed.Nowhe owns a billion-dollar music empire inLondon.
“Ithink you’re not giving him enough credit,”Emilysays. “Butif you won’t talk to him, tryMaggie.GoodGod,Walker, they all love the ass off you.They’dhate to think you were walking around carrying this with you.”
Thethought of admitting whatIdid that night and risking them hating me is too much to bear right now.
