on an episode of Springer.”
“Honestly, though, I don’t think it made you look bad. I mean, you were there looking all cute and innocent and hopeful. Then there was Preston. He just looked like a jerk. I mean, he drove you there and left you! If I were you, I wouldn’t feel bad for myself. And I don’t think the rest of the country is looking at you the way you think. Preston on the other hand . . .”
“Well, that’s not good either, Riley. He’s the last person I wanted to be hurt. He’s my best friend and I embarrassed him.”
“Have you talked to him yet?”
“No. It’s been two weeks! We’ve never gone this long without talking. I really screwed up. I miss my best friend.”
“Maybe you should call him,” she suggests.
“No way! Not after that. Not when I made the whole country look at him like he’s the bad guy!”
“Okay. But soon. Promise me you won’t let this tear you two apart.”
I take a deep breath. “When the time is right, I will call,” I promise.
“Good. Now I have a date. Call if you need anything.”
“You have a midnight date?”
“Yes, that cutie I was telling you about asked me out, but I’d already promised to watch the show and I couldn’t let you down.”
I smile. “I love you, you know.”
I can practically hear the smile in her tone. “I know.”
The phone gets disconnected and I drain the tub to go for more wine. I dry off and wrap my silk robe around my body as I walk to the kitchen. I set my wine glass on the counter and open the fridge. There’s a dinging sound I’ve never heard the fridge make before.
Confused, I close the door and open it again to see if it makes the same sound. It doesn’t. I shrug my shoulders and grab the bottle of wine. Just as I’m uncorking it, I hear the sound again, this time realizing it’s the doorbell.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I open the front door that hardly ever gets used since I always go out the garage door. I’m surprised to find Calvin standing on the other side. He’s dressed in a perfectly-tailored suit. His hair is styled nicely and he’s holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.
The moment I see him, I know. He’s seen the show.
“Come to bandage the wounds?” I ask, reaching out and taking the bottle of wine. I turn and leave him at the door as I work on opening the bottle.
He walks in and closes the door behind him. “It wasn’t that bad,” he says, laying the flowers on the coffee table in the living room. I uncork the bottle and take a gulp.
“Wasn’t that bad? You did see the correct show, right? The one where I confessed my love for your bother and got my heart broken?” I take the bottle to the living room and plop onto the couch.
He takes the seat next to me. When he does, his deep, rich scent settles over me. Somehow, I find the smell relaxing—calming. I tip up the bottle and take a long drink before resting my head on his shoulder like always.
“How many times are we going to be here?” I ask, mostly thinking out loud.
“This is the first time I’ve ever been to your place. It’s nice. I like it.”
I laugh. “No, I meant . . . here. Me crying and heartbroken over your stupid brother and you giving me a shoulder to cry on. Aren’t you sick of doing this for me? I’m stupid for still being caught up in him.”
He takes a deep breath and reaches for the bottle. “The show wasn’t bad, Piper. If anything, it just made Preston look like the dick he can sometimes be. He shouldn’t have kissed you. You deserve someone who can love you back.”
“I know. And while I do love Preston, it’s becoming clear it never should’ve gone as far as it did. He’s my best friend and I don’t want to lose him. I just hope he forgives me.”
“He will,” he promises.
“How do you know?”
“Do you know why Preston doesn’t want to be with you?”
“He doesn’t want to ruin our friendship.” I state the same thing I’ve been told time and time again.
“Yes, but that’s not all of it. Preston loves you. You’re his best friend. And I think a part of him does want you in the way you wish he would. You’re beautiful and