Page 39 of The Equation of Us
“Still.” I glance at the bedroom door again. “It’s complicated.”
“Life is complicated.” She leans in, expression suddenly serious. “But let me ask you this: is it good? Like, really good?”
Despite everything, a small smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Then stop overthinking it.” She squeezes my arm. “You deserve something good, Nora. Even if the timing is messy.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket—another text from Dean. I don’t need to check it to feel the weight of it, the pull.
“What am I supposed to do if she decides she wants him back?” I ask quietly.
Sadie considers this. “Well, cross that bridge if you come to it. But honestly? From what I’ve heard from both of you? Youand Dean make way more sense than Dean and Daphne ever did.”
Before I can respond, Daphne emerges from the bedroom, now wearing the blue dress instead. “Final decision,” she announces. “Blue dress, black heels, minimal accessories. Sophisticated but approachable.”
“Perfect,” I say, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. “You look amazing.”
“You really do,” Sadie agrees, standing up. “Now, should we do face masks before your big date? I brought those Korean ones that make you look like a serial killer but give you baby-smooth skin.”
As they debate the merits of various skincare routines, I slip my phone from my pocket and glance at Dean’s new message.
I need to see you. Just say when.
Three weeks and three days since Dean and Daphne broke up. Six days since Dean and I started whatever this is between us. And now here I am, sitting in Daphne’s apartment, listening to her maybe-regrets while my body still carries the memory of Dean’s touch from last night.
I should end it. Should tell him this is too complicated, too messy. That’s what a good friend would do.
Instead, I type:Tomorrow. 9 p.m. Your place. Sadie will be in our room.
I hit send before I can change my mind, then silence my phone and tuck it away. Guilt and anticipation war inside me, neither one quite winning out.
“Nora!” Sadie’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Are you with us? Cucumber or charcoal mask?”
“Cucumber,” I say automatically, forcing a smile. “Definitely cucumber.”
“See?” Daphne says triumphantly. “Told you.”
As they continue their good-natured bickering, I reach for my wine glass again. It’s fine, I tell myself. Everything is fine. Daphne doesn’t actually want Dean back. She’s just feeling insecure about dating again. And what Dean and I are doing isn’t serious—it’s just physical, just an arrangement. No one’s getting hurt.
But even as I think it, I know I’m lying to myself.
Because whatever is happening between Dean and me, it isn’t “just” anything.
And the longer it continues, the messier this all becomes.
Chapter Thirteen
Staying Focused
Dean
“You’re not seriously eating that,” Gavin says, watching with undisguised disgust as I methodically work through my meal prep container. “It looks like lawn clippings mixed with sadness.”
I spear another forkful of grilled chicken and quinoa. “It’s protein and complex carbs.”
“It’s depressing is what it is.” He glances down at his own tray—loaded with pasta, garlic bread, and what the dining hall optimistically labels ‘marinara sauce’—and grins. “Carb-loading. Coach approved.”
“Coach tolerates,” I correct him. “Because you’re fast despite your terrible diet.”
