“What, Chris? Just say it.”
“I don’t want you choosing wrong again.”
I bite back a snappy retort. Anton is already getting inside my head, because I can feel a sort of simmering anger boil up at the thought of someone telling me what to do. I have to remind myself that Chris is on my side. He’s a good guy, he wants what’s best for me, and he’s just giving me his perspective in the hopes that it’ll keep me out of trouble.
Those are all good things. He’s not the enemy.
“Can we talk about something else?” I mumble.
He laughs, though it’s sort of melancholy. “Like what? We can talk about me if you want, but my life is boring as hell.”
“No girls on the horizon?”
“Not a single prospect.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek for a while. “Chris, can I ask you a question?” I say once a few minutes of silence have passed.
“Always. Shoot.”
“You used to have girlfriends all the time. Sandra, Casey, Jane, Rebecca. They were all freaking awesome. Why didn’t it work with one of them?”
He groans. “On second thought, let’s not talk about me.”
I smile. “Don’t even try to change the subject, buster. I’m genuinely curious.”
“They were all… great,” he says after a tense beat. “But in the end, we just weren’t compatible. There’s a lot that goes into that, but bottom line is, they just weren’t right for me. The right girl is out there somewhere. Probably right under my nose.”
Freya’s observation bubbles to the surface. For a second, I wonder if asking Chris about his feelings outright is a smart idea. But the moment I seriously contemplate it, I swallow the question whole.
I’ve never felt that way about Chris. Nothing good can come out of bringing it up. Because if Freya is right and he admits to having feelings for me, then that might end our friendship.
And I need to avoid that at all costs.
I’ve lost enough as it is lately.
“Well, I hope you find her soon.”
“Yeah,” he says solemnly. “Me, too.”
Suddenly, I wish I hadn’t called him at all. “Thanks for talking to me, Chris. I needed this.”
“Calling it a night?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m tired.”
“Okay. Let me know when the phone’s off your hands.”
“I will. Goodnight. And thanks again.”
“Anytime, Jess. Anytime.”
The line goes dead and I toss my phone on the sofa. Not long ago, I’d been looking forward to a very different life. A husband. A little house just outside of the city. An exciting career with an upward trajectory.
Now? Well, now, I have no idea where I’ll be in five days, let alone five years. I have no husband and no job. No hope, either.
So much for my planning. So much for my dreams.
I should feel disappointed, let down, heartbroken. But instead, all I can feel is… excited.
And every time that feeling takes hold of me, all I can think of is a pair of haunting gray eyes.