“Yeah, you do. And you need to be honest with him.”
I nod, unable to agree through the huge lump in my throat.
“People make mistakes, especially when they’re hurting. But it doesn’t define who they are as a person. He cares about you, Jo. And I know you care about him too. You need to decide if it’s enough. Either way, you need to be brave.”
I blow out a shaky breath. She’s right. I know she is. But being honest with how I really feel about him comes with so much risk, the possibility of so much pain.
I want to trust him. I want to believe that despite his upbringing and his deep-rooted need for revenge, he really is the person I got to know. The sweet guy who was doing such a good job of putting me back together after all the loss I’d suffered.
If that really is him, then can I also embrace the other side of him too?
Is what we’d found together worthy of that?
“Jo, you still there?” Sara asks when nothing but silence passes between us for long seconds.
“Y-yeah. I’m going to message him.”
“Good. All you need to do is be honest. Tell him where you stand with everything right now. And remember… you only regret the things you don’t do.”
“I know. I know,” I say, because I do.
It’s basically the motto that Bri and I live by. It’s what’s got me into most of the situations I have with her over the years. Sara was never really one to live in the moment like Bri, but she seems to be more than willing to use it to force me into action.
“Call me later, yeah? And if you need me, you know where I am.”
“Getting your brains fucked out by your hot gangster?” I quip, more than happy to turn the tables on this conversation.
“That would be it. Play your cards right and you could get yourself ruined by a bad boy too.”
“One thing at a time, yeah?”
“Girl, you screwed him in a sex club the first night you met him. Chemistry and bumping uglies isn’t your issue and you know it.”
I bite down on my bottom lip as I cast my mind back to our shower last night and just how badly I wanted him to really touch me, to take me, to get me out of my own head.
“I’ll call you later,” I agree and hang up to the sound of her laughter.
Before I can convince myself otherwise, I pull up mine and Toby’s conversation and tap him out a message.
Jodie: We need to talk.
Simple and to the point.
I stare at the screen, waiting for it to be shown as delivered and then hopefully read, but it never happens.
Not wanting to sit obsessing over it, I find Bri’s number and hit call.
“Hey, bitch, how’s it going?” she asks, her voice rough and sleepy, but happy, and I can’t help but smile.
“I… um…” Something in my tone obviously clues her in to the fact that things aren’t going well with me, because there’s rustling and then her voice sounds much more alert.
“What’s happened, Jojo?”
I blow out a breath and let it all roll off my tongue.
“Ho-ly shit, girl. That is so fucking hot.“
“What?” I screech. “Bri, I was almost rap—“