“Yeah, tell me about it,” I say and blink rapidly, trying to dry mine up.
Juls backs out of the parking space and drives through the lot, slowing down and staring past me through my window. “Hey, isn’t that one of the desk girls from their work? She looks really familiar.”
My eyes follow hers and I recognize the girl immediately, the hair a dead giveaway. She’s sitting on a bench partially obstructed by a tree and staring in the direction of the basketball game. “That’s Reese’s receptionist. Fucking bitch. She was so rude to me when I went to kill him on Monday, acting all possessive and catty. Why the fuck is she here?” Part of me wants to hop out of the car and run straight into his arms, declaring in front of her and whoever else wants to watch, that he is mine. But I don’t. Instead, I just glare at her profile.
“I don’t know, but she’s staring at them like a creep. Redheads freak me the fuck out.”
“Me, too. Come on, let’s go eat.”
Now that I seem to have not completely blown it with Reese, my appetite is back with a vengeance. Although, it is still a bit unsettling seeing his receptionist eye the lot of them up like she wants to eat them. Maybe she’s dating one of the other three guys? I make a mental note to ask Reese about it next time we see each other, which I decide will not be until Tuesday. I can’t see him every day. I’m already struggling with keeping my feelings and emotions out of this thing between us enough as it is.
Monday morning comes quicker than I would have liked. I pass out early on Sunday and sleep soundly, not hearing my phone ring when Joey calls in the middle of the night. Noticing the missed call when my alarm goes off, I dial him quickly, putting it on speaker phone as I get into my running gear.
“I have news, cupcake. I’m on my way though, so meet me out front.”
“Okay.” I end the call and slip on my sports bra, tank top, and running shorts before popping into my Nikes. Grabbing my phone and my keys, I run downstairs and out the front door, locking up behind me as I begin to stretch.
It’s already humid out and my top begins to stick to me in the most uncomfortable way possible. Summers in Chicago can be brutal, and when you start sweating immediately after stepping outside in the early morning hours, you know you’re in for a hot one. This is one of the reasons why I don’t understand the appeal for a summer wedding, at least not here anyway. Maybe somewhere with no humidity that doesn’t turn your hair into a frizz fest after spending hours on making it look nothing less than perfect. I attended an outdoor wedding a few summers ago where I appallingly watched my beautiful three-tiered white chocolate creation melt in front of everyone at the reception. It was awful. Luckily, the bride thought it was hilarious and didn’t care one way or the other because she was so deliriously happy to be married to her husband. Juls worked that wedding with me and told me the couple had only been dating nine weeks before he proposed to her, and at the time, I remember thinking there was no way in hell that marriage was going to last. How could anyone know without a doubt that they wanted to be with each other forever after only being together a few months? Juls agreed with me, saying the bride had mentioned how strongly her family was against the marriage, but she didn’t care. She told my best friend she didn’t want to wait any longer to start her life with him and that when it’s right, it’s just right. The past three summers on their anniversary, I’ve gotten a thank you card from the bride for helping make their day so special. And now look at Juls. She’s only known Ian a few months and is crazy in love with him. And look at you, Dylan. No, don’t look at me. Nothing to see here.
My eyes flick toward the pavement as Joey’s tall frame comes jogging in my direction. Stopping in front of me and pulling his knee to his chest, he looks giddy beyond his usual giddy self.
“Are you going to make me ask?” I question, stretching my arms over my head.
He smiles and switches legs. “Billy asked me to move in with him.”
Whoa. “What? Are you serious? That’s crazy. What did you say?”
“Yes. Obviously.” He jumps up and down on his feet and motions to me that he is ready to start running.
“Obviously? Joey, do you even really know this guy? He could cut out your organs and sell them on eBay. He could have a weird fetish.”
He shakes his head. “I know him as well as you know Reese and you’re in love with him.”
Fucking Juls. Jesus Christ, I need some new friends. “I cannot believe she told you that. I will cut a bitch next time her skinny ass walks into my shop.” Realizing Joey has stopped running, I glance back and see his expression. Motherfucker. He is one sneaky bitch.