And here she is. And I’m glad to see her, I am. It’s just…I almost wish she hadn’t come over.
Because all I can think about is begging her to stay.
But we have to get through whatever big announcement has her all wound up and pacing around the living room like a caged animal.
I hand her a mug and she stares at it for a moment, but doesn’t move to take it.
“Sorry it’s not crystal,” I say. “This is a bachelor pad now.”
“Obviously,” she says. “Demi seemed…um, partially clothed.”
I take a big sip from my own mug. It’s not my favorite drink, but my beer supply is low and I need the booze.
“For the record, I didn’t know she was crazy when I brought her home,” I say.
“Uh-huh.”
The skepticism in her tone says she clearly thinks I’m still sleeping my way through Portland, and I open my mouth to refute her, but think better of it.
The last thing an almost-engaged woman needs to hear is that her best friend is still hung up on their last sexual encounter.
I freeze as a horrible thought occurs to me.
Suddenly, I know exactly why Parker is here.
I know why she’s so tense.
And I know why she thinks I won’t want to hear what she has to say.
Because I don’t. I don’t want to hear it.
I don’t want to hear that Lance proposed. I don’t want to hear that she’s going to get married to someone else.
“Mute,” I say a little desperately. “I want you to mute.”
Her eyes flicker. “But you said—”
“I changed my mind. I don’t want to hear it.”
I know it’s selfish. Of course I know.
And eventually I’ll hear, and I’ll congratulate her and I’ll even toast her wedding, but I just can’t hear it right now.
I can’t hear that the girl I love is going to get married to someone else.
I love her.
I swallow and turn away from her, squeezing my eyes shut.
I love her so much.
“Ben, wait,” she says, coming toward me. “I won’t talk if you don’t want me to, but at least tell me why you changed your mind—”
I spin back to face her, and my pain must be all over my face because her eyes widen and she takes a step back in surprise.
And all of a sudden, it becomes too much. She’s too damn beautiful, and I care too damn much.
“Talk or mute,” I say roughly.