“How are things with Ryan?”
Crap, this woman is like a dang emotion detector. Nothing gets past her, no matter how hard I try.
“We still message every day or talk if we can. It’s hard with him and his training and the time difference. Most nights I’m in bed and passed out by the time he gets home from training.”
Tara purses her lips. “But today is Sunday. His day off.”
“I know, but he hasn’t messaged yet.” The only free day Ryan has. We didn’t set up anything specific, but I was really hoping we could spend some time together today.
“Have you messaged him?” Her eyebrows rise.
She hits a nerve, and I groan. “Not yet, no. I don’t want to seem needy.”
“What if he doesn’t message you for the same reason? You’re both adults, and if there are two people who have to learn how to communicate really well, it’s you two, considering the situation you’re in.”
My eyebrows draw together. Why does she need to make so much sense? “I . . . I don’t know.”
“Harp, if you want to talk to him, message him. Don’t be old-fashioned and expect him to constantly make the first move just because he’s a guy. And then get mad if he doesn’t.” She shakes her head. “You practically dry-humped the guy during your visit. I think you’re past all of this.”
I’m speechless for a moment. I also regret telling her about that. Her speech definitely hits home, but it’s usually not like Tara to be this . . . pushy about contacting a guy and all that. She seems overly fierce, a little too much on my case, almost like this isn’t just about Ryan and me. My eyes go wide when it clicks in my brain. “Did you contact your guy?”
“Beckett?” She presses her lips together before she cracks up. “Maybe.”
Her laughter is loud, free, and passionate. Exactly like my best friend. I miss it. I miss her.
And now my curiosity has piqued like nothing else. Sometimes it’s so much nicer to focus on other people’s lives than your own.
“You did?” I straighten and watch her every move. She hasn’t mentioned Beckett again, not since she finally found his business card while she unpacked the last moving box.
“Yeah. He travels a lot for business, and it just so happens his company also has a branch here in London.”
“How practical. And what does that mean for you and him?”
Tara chuckles. “Not much. We’ve talked once or twice, that’s all. He’s coming out my way next month, and we might get together. Nothing big.”
“I’d say that’s big.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Oh my gosh. You didn’t just say that.”
We stare at each other for two seconds before we both burst into laughter. I hold my belly because it starts hurting. I needed this. It feels good to forget everything and laugh with my best friend.
Tara wipes an errant tear from the corner of her eyes. “That was a good one.”
I chuckle and sniffle at the same time. “It was.” I pause. “So you’re going to see him again, huh?”
She lifts her shoulders. “Probably. I mean, the sex was amazing, and we’re both single, so why not? I’m focused on my job here, and while I don’t mind some friends to hang out with, I don’t want anything serious. Beckett visiting every few months sounds pretty perfect to me, if you know what I mean.”
This is Tara. Easy, outgoing, fun.
I tried to channel my inner Tara on New Year’s Eve, and look where that got me.
She leans closer to the camera, smirking. “Are you going to hook up with Ryan again?”
“What?” A piece of popcorn gets stuck in my throat, and I cough. After gulping down half of my juice, I feel like I can talk again.
She shrugs. “You’re obviously into him, not that I blame you. He’s hot. And you like him.”