Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,108
loved me. Was he lying?”
“No,” Griffin said firmly. “That I know for sure. I’ve never seen him so crazy about someone. And he doesn’t bullshit people like that. He never has. If he told you he loved you, he meant it.”
“Really?” I asked, hope rising in my heart.
He nodded. “Yeah. Like at Thanksgiving, and at the wedding, and at dinner here that night . . . it was obvious the guy was messed up.”
“To be clear, that’s supposed to be a compliment,” Blair said, rolling her eyes.
“I asked him about you on Thanksgiving, and he tried to deny something was going on, but Cole is a really shitty liar.” Griffin shook his head. “His upper lip does, like, this weird, twitchy thing, and his eyes dart all over the place. And he sweats.”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “I’ve seen it!”
“Sometimes his hands twitch too, so he folds his arms and sticks his hands in his armpits. It’s fucking ridiculous. He’s such a Boy Scout.”
“Oh my God, he totally did that during our argument.”
Blair laughed sympathetically. “Poor Cole.”
I looked at Griffin, needing to hear it again. “Do you really think he was happy with me?”
Griffin shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, dudes don’t go around saying shit like ‘I can’t believe how happy I am’”—he spoke in a high-pitched voice with an exaggerated version of Blair’s Tennessee lilt—“but if I had to be the judge, I’d say he was, and right now he’s probably miserable.”
“Could you maybe check on him?” I asked, clasping my hands together. “I can’t stop worrying about him.”
“Why don’t you reach out to him? Maybe he’s changed his mind.”
“I can’t, Griffin.” My eyes filled again. “It will hurt too much. Every time I see him or Mariah outside with the new dog, I melt down.”
My brother exhaled heavily. “Okay. I’ll give him a call later.”
“Thank you.”
Griffin put his glass in the sink and disappeared down the hall to their bedroom.
“Now how about eating a little something?” Blair pushed my plate closer to me.
Giving in, I took a bite of the muffin. “Thanks. It’s really good. Way better than a garden salad.”
She laughed. “No one wants raw vegetables during an emotional crisis.”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Finish your muffin, and then we’ll go do something fun. Get our nails done or something. Go shopping. Buy something cute for New Year’s Eve.”
“Ugh, don’t even talk about it. For once, I was going to get to kiss the man of my dreams at midnight. Instead I’ll be home with my mother, wearing sweatpants, watching the ball drop while eating raw cookie dough and drinking wine out of a box.”
“No way, sister. Griffin and I decided we’re going to have a few people over here, and you’ll be here in a sequin miniskirt with a glass of bubbly in your hand at midnight. Guys will be knocking each other over to be the one you kiss at midnight.”
“A sequin miniskirt?” I looked at her sideways. “You’re crazy.”
“I know.” She tipped her head onto my shoulder. “But at least I made you laugh.”
Thirty
Cole
At the closing, I got the keys to my new house, but I didn’t feel like celebrating.
I’d imagined the day so much differently—I’d pick up Mariah and Cheyenne and go straight to the house, and we’d walk through it together, knowing it was finally ours.
Instead, it was just like every other day had been since Cheyenne walked out—agony.
I couldn’t sleep. Had no appetite. Didn’t feel like working out. I was ignoring calls and texts from friends, evading my mother’s questions, and getting through work on autopilot.
Mariah was still so upset, she was hardly talking to me. I hadn’t told her much—just that it had been Cheyenne’s decision to end the relationship, and I asked her to please respect Cheyenne’s privacy and not go running over there to ask her questions or beg her to come back. I hadn’t wanted to ruin Mariah’s Christmas morning by telling her right away, but she was desperate to tell Cheyenne about all her new presents—and show her the photo of Buddy, a nine-year-old Terrier mix who’d been abandoned and was always passed over at the shelter because people wanted younger dogs. I’d felt for the animal, who must have thought all his best days were behind him. Mariah had taken one look at the photograph and burst into tears, grabbing onto me and refusing to let go, even though I was already going to be late for work.