Page 44 of Savage in the Sheets
Basically—I’ve gone psycho.
My phone vibrates, and I scramble to free it from my purse. It’s a message from Wes.
Weston:Tomorrow. My place. 3pm.
A happy squeal escapes my throat.
Angela shakes her head. “Could you be any more dramatic?”
“Don’t act like you don’t do the happy dance every time you’re about to get laid.”
“Pardon me if I’m annoyed that my workload just doubled.”
“How so?”
“Because once you and Wes fizzle, you’re no longer going to be going to him for your movie nights and whatever it is you two gab about.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize our friendship was such a burden to you.”
Her features soften. “It’s not. I’m sorry for being a jerk. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I admit, I didn’t think this through. But it’s not like I can go back. Not now. Tomorrow afternoon at three, mistake or not, I’m going to finish whatever it is I started with Wes.”
“So, you’re just going to ‘do the deed,’ say thanks for the advice, and leave?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Wow, this is the first time you’re going into something without a plan. And that says something. He really did dick the Rosie out of you.”
The waiter finally arrives back at the table with a cast-iron skillet cookie dessert topped with vanilla ice cream. He lights a candle on top and begins singing Happy Birthday, which must be the only way he could give it to us for free.
He casts Angela lust-filled eyes on account of her flirtatious manipulation, but now that the dessert is here, she sneers rudely and begins to chow down.
Sigh. I don’t know what made her this way, but I love her dearly regardless.
I grab a spoon and help Angela finish off the dessert, down to the last bite, which we battle for. Afterward, she tries to entice me out to the bar, which is the only way she knows how to fix my problem: get Weston out of my head by replacing him with another man.
The thing is, that won’t work for me, because there’s only one man I want.
It’s become apparent that I can’t keep my feelings to myself. I’m going to have to have a talk with Weston, no matter where it leads.
But it’s going to have to wait until after Stage Three.
Weston
Today is the day. The one I’ve been agonizing over all week. The one that I’ve played out in my mind half a hundred times.
Today is the day I make love to Jenna.
And those words were not a mistake. I chose them specifically and with care.
I love Jenna, and I know she loves me. We’ve loved each other for years, although my love crossed the border into romance, and hers is firmly rooted in a more platonic nature.
As crazy as it sounds, as the week went by, this realization has served as more of a comfort than the annoyance it initially was. Partially because I know I’m not broken, and my heart is capable of being broken, but also because I’m going through many ‘firsts’ I never thought I’d get to experience.
Falling in love, although painful, is magical. I’ve spent countless hours this week analyzing my friendship with Jenna, and instead of letting the dread creep in, I accepted the joy.
And, perhaps most importantly, I’m not going to be a coward about it. I’m going to go ahead with Stage Three, as we agreed, enjoy the ever-living fuck out of it, and then, when the mood has settled, and we’re laughing, as we do, I’m going to be honest.
