Hell, if Rye can manage a relationship with a crazy one like Brin, then anyone can find a way to make it work.
“Can I ask you why you continue to do this?” I ask as I head into the bedroom.
“Because it’s fun when I prank her. Not so much when she gets me back twice as good.”
I lose it when I see him struggling to get the dress over his shoulders, and the pink thong he’s wearing just slays me completely until I’m collapsing to my knees, laughing so hard it hurts.
“The fucking hell?” he snaps, falling over when the dress tangles him up and he loses his balance.
He crashes to the floor with the white, old-school lacy dress that is wrapped all around his head, cursing as he spins in a circle on the ground like he’s trying to wiggle out of it.
“Why… Why are… you wearing… those?” I heave out through heavy falls of painful, somewhat maniacal laughter.
“Damn it!” he barks, still wriggling. “It was the damn pink shit or nothing at all, and this dress is too short for me to free-ball it.”
Words I never thought I’d hear him speak.
Dying. I’m fucking dying. Oh, it hurts too much to laugh this hard. I’m going to need a pain reliever.
“And why do you put up with this?” I ask when he finally rips the dress enough to get it off, and he glares over at m
e as he stands.
It’s really hard to stand here in front of my best friend when he’s wearing a motherfucking pink thong. The anger in his gaze fades as he rolls his eyes.
“Because she’s my person,” he says as though that explains everything.
That sobers me, because I didn’t mean for this to turn deep.
“She gets me—all of me—and she makes me smile when I never thought it’d be possible. Even when she makes me wear a stupid fucking dress,” he says, stifling a grin. “There will be hell to pay for that one though.”
It’s not so funny anymore.
“Besides, when Brin came along, I couldn’t seem to stay away unless I forced myself to. Not that you’d understand. But when it happens, nothing else really seems to matter as much, as long as you quit holding onto all the bullshit.”
I start to speak, but I decide to not get into chick talk, regardless of the fact it’s more tempting than it’s ever been before. It’s not been easy to let Bella work or spend time away from me. But she has. And she doesn’t seem to be having the same problem I am.
Guess I need to do something to change that.
Chapter 40
BELLA
It’s just starting to get dark, and I walk in with more of the fabric squares with pictures on them. I hated blowing off Ethan, but I really want to finish this project. Besides, the more I spend time with him, the less I see him as a hot time. He’s starting to become a lot more to me, and that’s dangerous territory with a guy who has confessed he’s ready to live like he never had the chance to.
Just as I walk through my kitchen, I hear a noise slap the floor, and something else slams into the ground as well. The fabric pictures tumble from my hand as I sprint across the room and head toward my bedroom as fast as possible.
Another loud noise clatters to the ground, and I scream, then clamp my hand over my mouth so that I don’t become the first dead dumbass in the horror film. As soon as I get my door shut, I lock it with shaking hands.
My entire body is trembling when I grab my phone out, and I dial the first person who comes to mind.
“Glad you called,” Ethan says on a sigh. “Listen, have I done something to—”
“Ethan!” I hiss, double-checking to make sure my door is locked. “Someone’s in my house!”
“On my way. Lock yourself in a room and don’t move,” he says, sounding winded like he’s running.
I hear his car cranking, and I stay on the phone, overjoyed with the fact he doesn’t live far away from me at all.