I drive straight to Monica’s. My mind is spinning—I had to get out of there. I managed to leave Bo a note, telling him to feel free to use the shower so he doesn’t smell like a frat house when he gets home.
It’s me or him. Adrian’s words echo through my soul. I shake my head and try to figure him out. He knows about the kiss. I didn’t deny it and I don’t know why. You know why.
Sleepy, and probably hung over, Monica answers the door.
“You look like hell,” I tease as I slide in. She groans in response and wanders to the kitchen and pours coffee.
We settle onto the couch and let the caffeine work into our systems in silence. I take a breath and share my version of the night. I have to back up a bit to remind her of the parts she’s hazy on, but as soon as I say “Better Man,” her eyes widen as the night seems to fall back into place. Josh staggers out of the bedroom in time to hear the blow-by-blow of getting Bo into my apartment and to bed.
“Wait. C.J. didn’t help you at all?” Josh rubs his eyes and gulps coffee.
Monica rolls her eyes. “That’s what you’re pulling from the story? You need help.”
“Or more coffee,” he grunts and walks to the kitchen.
“So what are you going to do about Adrian?” Monica sets her coffee down and crosses her arms. “I mean, clearly you’re thinking about it, or you would have followed his sorry ass straight to Boston.”
I snort, “Adrian Turner doesn’t need me to chase after him, Monica.”
“Maybe he does.” She shrugs.
Maybe he does.
“I can’t believe he told me he loves me.”
“Yeah, right before he told you he figured out Bo kissed you.
“Good point.” I arch my eyebrow.
“I know.” She arches hers.
“I don’t think I love him. I mean, I care a lot about him and, sexually...come on. But ...” I shake my head and look past Monica.
“Say it, November.” She can see my thoughts, I swear it.
“I know I said it the night of the Coldplay concert but...I really think I might still love Bo.”
Monica raises her palms to the sky. “Praise the friggin Lord!”
“What’s with the revival in here?” Josh chuckles as he reenters the room. I often forget his dad is a preacher. It makes me laugh every time.
“Our girl here has finally admitted, out loud, to still having feelings for Bo.”
“I said might.” I’m ignored.
“Thank God.” He sits back, seemingly relieved.
“You two are awfully spiritual this morning,” I mumble into my coffee.
Monica laughs. “We’re going to Josh’s parents for the week, gotta practice.”
We all laugh at the double life they’ll have to lead before the wedding. They’ve agreed to keep separate apartments until the big day, but the rest of their private life is top secret around Josh’s conservative parents. They nearly keeled over when he decided to move to the Cape and manage a bar. His business sense is sharp, though, and he single-handedly saved Finnegan’s from going under.
“So,” Josh interjects, running his hand through his sandy-brown hair, “does this mean you and Bo will stop being so shitty to each other?” The question takes me by surprise, and I furrow my brow at him.
“Oh come on, Ember ...” Monica rolls her eyes.
“I’m not with Adrian to hurt Bo, guys.”
“Well, it hurts him. And after Regan told you Bo and Ainsley don’t really seem to be together ...” Monica leads.
“What? Is he using her to hurt me?”
Josh senses an argument and raises his hands. “Ladies...we all know Bo wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt Ember. I’ve seen him talk about her; it’s just not possible. But, guys don’t think straight—”
“Ever,” I cut in.
“No, smart ass, guys don’t think straight when they’re heartbroken. You women chop off and dye your hair, curling up on your best friend’s lap to cry for days.” Monica and I stare at each other, on the brink of hysteria regarding his accuracy. “Guys,” he continues, “we just want the hurt to go away. I’ll reference my drunken showdown with you, Ember, as an example of not thinking straight.”
I mull over Josh’s words and think about Regan not having seen Ainsley and Bo together. I begin to wonder if Bo thinks I’m with Adrian to hurt him.
“Take the blackmail out of the equation completely.” Monica leans forward and touches my knee. “Would you have ever second-guessed your relationship with Bo for another go ‘round with Adrian Turner? I mean, Turner’s fine as hell—”
“Nice, Monica,” Josh chuckles.
“Seriously, is he anything more than walking sex?” Her eyebrows shoot up.
“Wow. Tell me how you really feel, Mon.” I stand and bring my coffee mug to the kitchen.
“I already did,” she shouts, reminding me she thinks I’ve royally screwed myself.
I pause at the sink, sick with the realization that a sane person doesn’t take care of a drunken ex-boyfriend while their current boyfriend wanders up and down the beach.