The mere thought of telling Hanna I slept with Eric behind her back makes me nauseous, but how he acts like he wants her to find out kind of scares me. “Let’s start with feelings.”
He laughs, “Good idea.”
The little voice inside my head—that little bitch—lives to create doubt inside my mind.
“Are you using me to hurt her?”
“What the fuck, Kar?” His voice becomes more high-pitched, “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
He barely lets me get the words out before speaking, “Listen to me. What I feel for you has absolutely nothing to do with what happened with Hanna. I was only joking when I said that. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Not you, not her.”
Goosebumps invade my naked arms, and my lips tilt into a smile. I’m absolutely smitten with him. The way he so vocally tells me how he feels, so I don’t have to guess, it’s a turn-on.
“Also,” He continues, “Just so we’re absolutely clear. I have feelings for you too.”
I smile, changing the subject, “So, are you going into hibernation now that you have a couple of days off?”
He groans, “Yeah. I’m planning on sleeping as soon as possible, but I was actually calling to ask if you had plans tomorrow?”
“Depends,” I tease.
“On?”
“What you have in mind. If it sounds good, then I don’t have plans.”
My phone warns me that it will die soon if not plugged in, so I shuffle across my bed to fish the charger out of the floor.
“What if it’s a birthday party for Ty at my sister’s house?”
I think about the number of people that will probably be there and the probability of it getting back to Hanna, “I don’t know, Eric. I think I have plans.”
He laughs, “You already admitted you didn’t actually have plans.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t think it’s a good idea, so I will just go with plan B.”
“And what would that be?” He questions, the consistent ding on the line indicating that he’s home and just opened his truck door.
“You know,” I scramble, “Just laundry.”
He booms with laughter, “Now I know that is a bald-faced lie.”
I glance around my room, smirking at the clothes I just stripped off on the floor, “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Wanna bet?”
I roll my eyes, “What am I doing right this very second, then?”
He doesn’t hesitate, “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say you are laying diagonal across your bed, watching old episodes ofBoy Meets World, contemplating picking all those dirty clothes up that you claim you are gonna wash tomorrow. In reality, a load of clothes in the washer is on its second wash cycle because you keep forgetting to switch them over.”
I scan the room, my eyes stopping at the TV. Sure enough, Shawn Hunter and Cory Matthews are eating waffles in bed together.
What can I say? I’m a sucker for this show because it’s like a form of therapy for me.
“Anyone could’ve guessed that,” I argue.
He snaps back, “I’m right, though, aren’t I?”