Page 117 of Wild Love
“Want me to open it?” Ginny asks from where she lies on the couch.
I pull my earbuds out and drop them next to the box. “No. Yes.No.”
“Come on. You don’t want to know what’s inside? I’m dying.” Ginny hops up and comes to the kitchen. She runs a finger over the packing tape and looks at Reagan. “Back me up here.”
“It has been interesting. Who could have predicted an entire box of hair ties?”
My already tight chest constricts a little more. A hundred hair ties to be exact. All red. I look down at the one I haven’t been able to remove from my ring finger.
“Or the Pop Rocks. Do I even want to know?” Ginny asks.
“Open it,” I say. As much as it hurts, I do want to know. Every single gift has been over the top in true Johnny form, but also more sentimental than I pegged him for.
Ginny tries to hide how giddy she is about it but fails spectacularly. She rips open the box and stills.
“What is it?” Reagan asks.
Instead of answering, Ginny holds out the box to me.
White Converse covered in rhinestones or crystals. Oh, god, they better not be crystals. Either way, they’re custom and expensive. So very Johnny. I pull one from the box to show them both.
“Those are cute.” Reagan smiles. “But why white?”
I shrug like I don’t understand the significance, put it back in the box, and hand it to her. “Set it with the others. I can’t deal with that right now.”
“Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?” Ginny asks.
“Of course, I’ll forgive him.” I’m mad, and I’m hurt. The second more than the first. I know he didn’t do it maliciously, but he still did it. No thought beyond the moment and no consideration for how it might impact me. I know he’s sorry and, yes, I know that I will forgive him, but right now, I can’t forgive myself. I knew it was a bad idea to get involved in a summer fling and break the rules of my internship, but I gave in and let his carefree and wild attitude overturn my better judgment.
My phone rings, and I don’t even have to look to know it’s him. He calls every day, leaves rambling voice mails telling me about his day, and then signs off by apologizing and asking me to call him back.
“He messed up.” Reagan reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“We never should have happened. We were two people in a new city clinging to each other out of loneliness and forced proximity. We’re too different. It’s better to cut things off now, and maybe someday we can be friends again.”
I can’t admit to Ginny and Reagan that I think we’re beyond ever going back to friends. I know myself well enough to know that seeing him will break my heart all over again. Maybe with enough time.
“I’m going to shower.”
Their gazes full of pity and sadness follow me into my bedroom where I shut the door and then lean against it to let out a shaky breath.
I miss him. There I’ve admitted it. Woo. Go me. What do I win? Another day filled with sad memories and heartbreak.
Because I’ve apparently turned into a masochist, I bring my phone to my ear to listen to his most recent voice mail.
“Hey, Kota. It’s me. It’s Johnny.” His deep voice drives tiny daggers into my heart. “I’m out for a walk with Charli. Went to a Twins game last night with Jack. Thought of you. Saw Quinn and some of the other interns at Wild’s. Thought of you. Oh, and get this, you know how there was a rumor that Jack hooked up with an intern who went all psycho on him and blasted it on social media? It wasn’t Jack. It was Declan. Can you believe it? He told me himself. It’s a crazy story.” He pauses. “I wish you were here so I could tell you in person. I don’t think it’d be the same over voice mail. I miss you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Call me back.” He’s quiet, but I hear his sigh, and then the recording ends.
I head over to the Hall of Fame to talk to my boss and see if I can get on the schedule sooner rather than later. She’s ecstatic to have me back, which makes me feel a tiny bit better about everything. Maybe I blew my dream job, but this one isn’t so bad. And Blythe did say she’d write me a reference letter, so maybe the summer wasn’t a total waste.
There are only so many ways to kill the day, and I end up back at the apartment, resigning myself to another night of watching my happy roommates text or hang out with their boyfriends.
I swear I saw Adam and Heath less when they lived across the breezeway from us. Now that we’ve moved into a three-bedroom a floor up, our apartment has become the new hang spot.
And I’m happy for my friends. I really am. Even more so after the amazing summer I had. I had a little piece of that this summer. I get it now.
Heath is in our living room by himself when I walk in.
“Hey,” I say, dropping my keys on the counter. “Where is everyone?”
