eyes.
“What the hell was this?” he demands. “You set us up for this?”
My eyes dart around, taking in Lilly’s dismayed expression, the sullen set of Easton’s mouth, then back to Josh. I lift my chin. “Yes. Your own coach told you two you need to talk. But you won’t.”
“How the hell do you know that?” he snarls.
“Not because you told me,” I retort. “We’ve talked about a lot of things, but you never told me about Easton. You hinted at it. Lilly and I figured things out.”
Josh’s expression turns even darker. “You two talked about this? About us?”
I sense Lilly’s alarm.
“Yes.” I hold his gaze steadily. “Because we care about you. Because we want to support you.”
“Support me? This is what you call support? Jesus Christ.” He rubs his forehead. “This is none of your goddamn business.”
I actually gasp at the hot pain that spears through me at his words. I take another step back.
Lilly moves closer and touches my upper arm.
My hands are shaking and my stomach hurts so much I think I might throw up. “I was trying to help,” I manage to croak.
“Hellsy…” Easton says, his expression shifting from anger to unease.
“Fuck you,” Josh says. “I’m outta here.”
He pushes away from the bar and stalks off.
I gape after him.
“Oh shit,” Lilly murmurs. She lowers her head. “I’m sorry, Sara.”
My mouth trembles. “It’s not your fault.”
Lilly looks up at Easton. “Are you mad too?”
His lips thin. “I’m not happy. But I get that your intentions were good.” He glances to where Josh has disappeared out the door and pulls in a long breath. “I never knew he felt that way.”
“That’s why you needed to talk!” Lilly grabs his arm. “I’m sorry we surprised you, but I’m not sorry we did it.”
“I’ll let you two sort that out,” I say, my voice shaky. I turn away.
“Wait.” Lilly takes two steps toward me and hugs me. “He’ll get over it.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t know if he will. I don’t know if I will. I try for a smile, and then I make my own escape from the bar, grabbing my purse and my jacket.
The street outside is dark but cars and other businesses nearby light it up. I dart around people on the sidewalk. I can’t help but scan the area for Josh, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I spot the metro station for Uptown and jog across the street and down the stairs. I fumble in my purse for my card. On the narrow platform, I lean against the wall.
Fuck. Shit. What just happened?
I pull out my phone, thinking maybe Josh has texted me. Nothing.
Do I want to text him?
To be honest, I’m pissed. I was only trying to help. He’s the one with some kind of weird hang-up about Easton and what happened. He needs to deal with that. And not just because his coach told him to. It’s obviously something that’s been tormenting him for years.
I’m also hurt. When he said that…that it was none of my business…that fucking hurt. I’m falling for this guy. Okay, I’ve fallen. Hard. Deep.
He said I was his girlfriend.
I cover my mouth as a small sob escapes. My shoulders hunch at the burn in my chest.
I’m in love with Josh. I thought he felt the same. He said he was catching feelings, too.
How did I get so lucky with you?
But you can’t love someone or be truly intimate with someone if you’re hiding things or not being honest. If you have things that are none of the other person’s business. That’s not love.
Sure, we’ve been intimate. Sex is definitely intimate. But secrets and lies make it just…sex. And that hurts too. Because I thought it was more.
I hear the rumble of the train approaching, and the other people on the platform move closer to the edge. I push away from the wall and shake my hair back, swiping at my wet eyes. I’m not the only girl who’s ever sobbed on the train, I know that.
I find a seat and slump into it for the ride. Sadness fills my limbs with heaviness as I think about all the time Josh and I have spent together. All the fun we’ve had together. But serious times too, talking about my business and my goals, his trepidation at the new team and new coach, his visits with Carter and how he’s been moved by them.
I have to change trains at Times Square, and I move listlessly with the