“There. Done.”
“Feel better?” Oliver says.
I nod. “I have so many new clients. I don’t need him. He probably would have fired me for not going on a date with him anyway.”
“He’s probably not used to being rejected, and it’s driving him crazy that you don’t want him,” he says with a smirk.
“I feel bad for any woman who does go out with him. He gives me the ick.”
“The ick?” Oliver repeats with a laugh.
“Yeah. The ick. It’s what all the cool kids are saying these days.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
We drive in silence for a minute. Without the radio on, the only sounds are the purring of the engine and the hum of the tires rolling against the asphalt.
“Ryan doesn’t think it’s weird that you’re making all of these arrangements for him?” I ask, changing the subject.
Oliver shrugs. “I think he’s just glad he doesn’t have to do any of the planning himself.”
“That makes sense,” I say around a mouthful of trail mix. “Especially after you screwed up his first attempt.”
He leans sideways over the center console and elbows me in the arm. “If that’s what you think happened, then you have a terrible memory.”
“First, you let me figure out his plan and steal his ring,” I remind him. “And then you tried to cancel the jumbotron, and when that didn’t work, you stole all the thunder for yourself.”
He gives me a side-eye. “It was Ryan’s ex who ruined everything. Besides, I didn’t let you do anything. You just have the investigative skills of an FBI agent.”
I scoff. “Hardly. You’re just way too easy to read. You never should have picked me up that day with the ring in your car.”
He shakes his head, looking away from the road to meet my eyes. “Nah,” he says. “I’m glad I picked you up. It was the right choice.”
“Why’s that? Couldn’t live with yourself if I had died of hypothermia out there?”
“Because it got you to be my friend again,” he says.
I lick the salt off my lips. I’m surprised by his admission, but maybe I shouldn’t be. We were friends before that stupid thing he said in front of everyone last year, even if it was only for a week. Even through all of the hurt and the embarrassment, I missed our friendship—or at least what it could have been. I fought with him because I’m stubborn and I guess I have too much pride, but it’s not like he’s made an effort to be nice to me either. I thought that maybe he never cared about being my friend, which made me feel even more embarrassed about drunkenly telling Tina how much I liked him.
To hear him tell me that he’s glad he picked me up gives me whiplash.
“You could have tried to be my friend at any time during the last year,” I tell him.
“Yeah.” He turns his gaze back to the road. “I guess I could have.”
ChapterTwenty-Two
Sex Hair
Bright and early Friday morning, I pack enough clothes for the weekend, then drive over to Oliver’s to pretend I spent the night there.
“Tina should be here in a few minutes,” I tell him when he lets me in. “I’m going to get ready.”
He frowns. “It looks like you’re ready to me.”
Of course he would think that. I put on makeup before I left my place, and I’m wearing comfortable clothes for sitting in the car for the next hour or so, but that’s not what I mean when I say that I need to get ready. I need it to be believable that I spent the night here.
I head to his bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I pat the palm of my hand over the top of my head to mess my hair up. Then I rub my fingers over my eyes to smear my eyeliner a little.
