“Thanks,” I offer, weakly.
Greg walks out a second later and stands in front of me. I know he’s just as worried about her as I am. It’s written all over his face. “She finally calmed down about ten minutes ago. Let’s get her home, yeah?” He addresses me softly so that he doesn’t disturb her.
“Sure, G. Let me go get the bouncer to open the side door. They already have your truck parked back there so we don’t have to take her through the front.” Seeing her like this, and the worry that Greg has, just confirms my thought that this isn’t going to be good at all.
I turn and almost crash into the man standing behind me, catching myself just in time.
“Come on, I’ll make sure you don’t need any more help.” Beck reaches over and laces his fingers through mine. He’s offering a whole hell of a lot more with that show of support than what his words suggest.
I try not to like the warm feeling that gives me, but I would be lying if I said I don’t enjoy and entertain the thought. But right now, I can’t even let myself go there. Izzy needs me and just like all the times before, and any time she will need me in the future, I’ll be there. I know, all too well, what it feels like when there isn’t anyone there, and I will never allow someone I love to feel that kind of pain.
CHAPTER 2
Dee
It’s been a week.
One week of hell.
My best friend has completely lost her shit. She doesn’t want me to know it, and I’ll give her some credit, she does a decent job of hiding it. I can see it in her eyes, and I can hear it through the walls when she cries herself to sleep every night. She’s been ‘busy’ avoiding the huge six-foot-six elephant that dropped into her life all week, and all the while, I’ve been running damage control with Greg. She won’t speak to him. He knows this and won’t even fight her on it. We both know that if he tries to make her talk before she’s ready, it will only end badly. I know it’s hurting Greg, but like I told him last night, we have to let her work this out herself.
Hell, at this point, I’m pretty sure there isn’t a good way for this to end. Regardless of how Greg and I feel, we both know that Izzy has to talk to him. She has to hash this out so she can heal and move on. Whether it’s with Axel, someone else, or alone. One thing’s for sure, I’m done letting her hide. It kills me to see her suffering, but if I don’t put my foot down, she won’t ever wake up.
Last weekend wasn’t easy. I sent Beck a text letting him know that we had made it home and things were . . . challenging. Since I haven’t heard anything else from him, I just figure he’s one of those guys that just wants a cheap run of things, then things got muddy, and he doesn’t want the drama now. I’m okay with that, and honestly, I had a feeling that it would happen. Sure does makes it a lot easier for me that way, anyhow. I don’t want or need a man right now, and as promising as he seemed in the pleasure department, I can easily see myself getting deep with him.
Deep is something I will avoid like the plague.
Deep is what brings the pain.
Pain when he cheats. Pain when he leaves. Pain when you realize that, no matter how much you wish things were different, you will never be first in a man’s eyes.
Am I jaded? Hell yeah I am. I even annoy myself with this, but I’ve learned enough from my past, that if I ever find a man worth trying a relationship for, the chances of him not breaking my heart are slim.
Until then, I plan on just enjoying the ride. If Beck happens to be one of those rides, then so be it. I just have to remind myself that the price of admission is too high to make it a ride I take often.
“Dee?” I lean back from my desk, rub my eyes, and push the work away. I’ve been staring holes in it for the last thirty minutes while I sit here and fester on all the shit going on.
“Yeah, Babe?” I call back through the open doorway, hoping that my voice sounds better than I’m feeling right now.
“I want you to take me shopping tomorrow. The whole nine. You know, all those ridiculous things you keep telling me are wrong with how I dress. Well, now they are yours to do whatever with. No limit.” I want to call bullshit so bad. I can tell by the way she sounds that this is another way for her to avoid her life. Okay, my rational mind knows, but she also knows how to play the game. She’s using my love for shopping and my hatred of all that crap she wears to get her out of the house and away from what I can only assume is Axel. But, my girl hit the nail right on the head.
Direct slam.
So I give her what she needs. I put the smile on my face, and with some screeching and jumping up and down like a demented kangaroo, I readily agree. After all, I’m still helping her out. Right?