“It’s not so bad,” I mumble, shifting in my seat and internally crossing my fingers that he doesn’t ask for any details. I haven’t really been helping Maddie with the wedding. Knowing Maddie, she probably wouldn’t even ask for fear of making me uncomfortable. Also, I don’t know shit about weddings.
“Speaking of, how are things between you and Maddie?” he asks.
“Ummm, good actually.”
Would probably be better if I had let Maddie go when she broke up with me. If I hadn’t let Evelyn convince me that Maddie was the only person who would ever put up with me, that I needed to make a grand gesture to win her back.
Publicly proposing to your ex-girlfriend and being—publicly—turned down is humiliating and I don’t recommend it.
But my statement to Caleb is not a complete lie though. Maddie and I are in a much better place now that some time has passed since our break up. Although things can be awkward because people in town still occasionally like to stare and whisper when we are out andabout, I often imagine the feelings I now have for Maddie is how it would feel to have a sister.
I nod towards Caleb’s half-finished latte. “Starting to feel better now that you’ve had your coffee fix?”
My subtle subject change works and, because I don’t feel like talking about myself today, I keep Caleb talking for a while. He tells me about work, about being “up to his eyeballs” in student debt, and about the feral racoon that’s been climbing into the dumpster outside his apartment and terrorizing him every time he takes out his trash.
I find myself grinning and relaxing in my chair as he talks, everything going fine, until a mix of whispering voices make their way over to me. The group of patrons currently making their way towards the exit aren’t as quiet as they think they are.
“…Luke Parker. You know his ex-girlfriend caught him kissing another woman and then dumped him for his brother, right?”
“I heard Maddison was seeing Jax behind Luke’s back, and they were already sleeping together when Luke proposed to her. How embarrassing.”
“I know, right? I mean, Luke is cute and all, but I’m not sure I would want to be seen with him in public after all that.”
I flinch, each whispered barb landing like a physical blow. It makes something inside me go cold and clammy, the blood draining from my face as I glance toward my best friend. His entire body goes rigid, his good mood evaporating as the lightness in his eyes is immediately replaced with something cold. His eyes narrow as they track the group toward the door before opening his mouth.
I jab my foot into his shin, making him grunt. “Leave it.”
Whatever he was going to say, he misses his moment when the door shuts behind the group with a quietclick. His head snaps back towards me, his fingers turning white as they clutch the plastic coffee cup nowslick with condensation. “Why? You know what they were saying is utter bullshit, right?”
I swallow. “I guess.”
Caleb’s eyes widen as he leans forward. “They don’t know what they’re talking about, and it’s none of their business. Anybody would be lucky to have you.”
I force a smile on my face.
He frowns. “Anybody, Luke.”
For some reason, an image of his dad pops into my head.
“Wanna go out this weekend? I’ll prove they’re full of shit and be the best wingman who ever wing-manned.”
That finally pulls a real laugh out of me, but I shake my head. “You are a terrible wingman.”
“Am not!”
I give him a dry look before standing and gathering the remnants of my breakfast. “Last time you tried to be my wingman, you had a thirty-minute conversation with a woman you didn’t even know about what the superior pizza topping is.”
“For the last time, Luke—you can’t date someone if your pizza orders are not compatible!”
“Yes,” I mutter, “that’s the important shit.”
Caleb trails after me as we throw our trash away and make our way out the door, back into the cool morning air. “Bet you and Maddie didn’t like the same type of pizza. Could have saved yourselves a lot of trouble,” he insists. Ironically, pizzawasone thing Maddie and I never agreed on but I’m not about to admit that to Caleb. As if liking—or disliking—the same types of pizza has anything to do with how compatible two people are.
I shake my head, ignoring my best friend and his sulky ramblings as I get in my car and begin making my way towards work.
Towards Alek.
I wonder if I’ll get to see him again today. Will he be in the office with the door shut, typing away at his computer with those black-framed glasses that make his icy-blue eyes pop? Or will he be walking around the office, silently surveying his kingdom with his shirt sleeves rolled up and those forearms flexing where justanybodycan see?
