“Like what?”
My feet took me to the bathroom, I needed the space between us, the certainty that he wouldn’t reach for me again, that I wouldn’t let my weakness take over if he tried to kiss me. “A friend.”
“We’ve never been friends.” He said in a low voice that had my entire body on high alert even when I hated myself for it.
“Well,” I grabbed the bathroom doorknob and twisted. “There’s a first time for everything.”
I shut the door behind me and leaned against it.
Breathing ragged.
Chest heavy.
We were two days in on a ninety-day shoot.
And already at each other’s throats. Confused. Angry.
For once in my life I had no plan of action.
And rather than feel good — I felt even more lost.
Because I’d just done something so stupid I wanted to go back in time and ask for a re-do.
I’d just asked the only man I’d ever loved if we could be friends, as if I could actually handle it emotionally.
And he hadn’t said no.
I slid to the cold tile floor and rested my head against my knees again.
It would be a miracle if I could survive him again.
I WAS LOUNGING on the couch when my phone started vibrating against the coffee table like it was possessed. I was almost afraid to look and when I did, my irritation only grew.
Demetri: You suck as a human being.
I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes.
Zane: Did you really kiss her for the press? What insane mean-spirited Oregon tree-hugging lunatic possessed your body and took over? #getbehindmesatan
Another text popped up.
Alec: Today my daughter was constipated, I showed her your picture, she shit all over it. Thanks man…
Yeah, message received loud and clear, I was just about to chuck my phone against the wall when another message popped up.
Jay: We actually put you in a group messenger now so that we can all join in your shame, I added the girls, you’re welcome. So, gang, let’s talk this through. What exactly did Will do wrong today?
Alyssa: Raises hand
Jay: Alyssa, yes you may have the group texting floor.
Hell, I needed new friends. Ones that actually knew what it was like to have boundaries, personal space. What the hell had I been thinking taking all of them on as clients? Oh right, I wasn’t. Zane just managed to get me drunk enough to do it and since I had free time and was already in Seaside why not manage the whole crew? Their wild days were behind them!
It was a solid plan.
Until I realized my error.
They were meddlers.
Every freaking one of them.
Alyssa: He treated her like crap and then treated her like crap again, he constantly makes her feel small like the tiny baby turtle trying freakishly hard to make it to the ocean, and BAM gets snatched up by a seagull.
Demetri: You’re the seagull, Will.
I finally responded.
Me: Caught that, thanks.
Nat: Oh good, you aren’t asleep!
And to think, Alec’s wife had seemed so nice and now she was meddling like the rest of them.
I suddenly had this horrible vision of being onscreen with all these texting bubbles floating around my head. I mentally imagined myself slapping each of them away only to have my phone vibrate again.
Me: FML
Jay: Good job, Alyssa and yes you’re correct, any other observations?
Dani: Other than him being a jackass, hi Will!
I refused to respond. Even though my phone wouldn’t shut the hell up, it was useless. I looked down and winced as Lincoln’s name popped up on the screen.
Lincoln: Can I just say something?
Jay: Yes, let’s hear from the brother.
I stopped breathing, just waiting for him to yell at me, curse me to Hell, or basically threaten to drown me in the ocean. Whatever he was typing was taking forever, making me nervous as shit.
The shower shut off in the bathroom.
A door opened.
I eyed my phone wearily.
Lincoln: You. Are. A. Giant. Huge. Ass. Hole. Sorry it had to be said, and if you ever use her in that way again, even if it’s for her own good, I’m calling up Zane’s “mafia” cousin and ordering a hit on your pathetic body! Got it?
Zane: Stop putting fake quotes around mafia, I told you, it’s true! They live in Chicago, oh and, agreed with Linc, sorry man, but he’s right. You messed up big.
Pris started typing.
Oh good, I was wondering when I’d get the pleasure of hearing from her too. I rolled my eyes and waited.
Pris: Everyone deserves a second chance, Will. Everyone.
Nobody texted after that.
Instead, I was left staring at my phone and wondering what I did to deserve such good albeit nosy friends. Finally, with shaking hands, I responded.
Me: She wants me to be her friend.
Jay: Do you even know what that word means with a girl?
Leave it to him to bring up my own shady past of dating whatever groupie was with us for the week only to leave once we hit the next city. It was the lifestyle at the time — until Angelica.
Me: Of course I do.
Demetri: Friendship i.e.: the art of spending time with someone without licking any part of them, just so nobody else gets there first. See also: Sharing isn’t caring.
I laughed while emojis erupted all over my screen from middle fingers to unicorns, a penguin, hearts, and smiley faces.
“Something funny?”
How long had Angelica been standing in front of me, hands on hips, white tank falling off her right shoulder and tiny black shorts pasted to her tan thighs.
I quickly set my phone on the table. “Just Demetri giving me shit.”
She looked away. “He’s a good one.”
“Wow.” My eyebrows shot up, “Have you two made peace already?”
“He’s running now,” she blurted, and then a smile crossed her features. “He fed a bird today too.”
“Demetri Daniels?” I asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. “I’ll believe it when I see it, last year I thought the guy was going to shit himself when a flock of doves flew over his head. Freaking doves and the guy crashed to the ground and started yelling.”
Angelica grinned.
Her smile sobered me completely because it had me wishing for that ease we used to have between each other.
“So…” I stood and made my way into the kitchen, “You must be hungry.”
Angelica reached for the remote and flipped on the TV, “Yeah, but I can just make a sandwich or something.”
“You hate sandwiches.” I was already pulling out a frozen lasagna, it wasn’t the best, but it was better than a cold sandwhich. “And last time you tried to make one you left the paper on the cheese.”
She glared over at me. “It was my first time!”
“Yeah, you were eighteen, no excuses.”
With a huff she walked over to me and leaned against the counter, and pointed the remote at the lasagna. “What’s that?”
“Food.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know it’s food, what kind of food.”
“Read the box.”
She scowled, “Why can’t you just make things easy?”