Desperate Chances (26 page)

“Gracie, I—” What was I going to say? I would never know because she didn’t let me finish.

“Thanks for the warning about Cole and Vivian. I’ll see you around.” She was cold. I could get frostbite from here.

“Sure thing. Thanks for the pep talk. See ya.”

I hung up. Before either of us could say anything else.

I sat there staring at nothing. My head full of
her.

Then I climbed the stairs and went to my room. I got under the covers and lay next to my girlfriend.

And went to sleep hating myself.

I
woke up grouchy. It was one of the worst nights sleep I could remember having in a long time.

And it had nothing to do with the crashing and moaning from Vivian’s room.

It had to do with Mitch and his stupid Chunky Monkey.

“Whoa. Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Vivian asked as I stomped into the kitchen, dressed and ready for work.

“Don’t talk. Give me coffee,” I ordered, holding out my hand. Vivian obliged by handing me a full mug. I sipped on it and felt a little more human.

“You look horrible. You should use some of my skin toner. The bags under your eyes are awful!” she exclaimed. Vivian of course looked perfect for having been up the entire night fucking her boyfriend.

“Well, I would have slept better if it wasn’t for the five rounds of sexylmpics you had going on in your bedroom,” I harrumphed, sitting down at the kitchen table and rubbing my temples.

“Are you sure it didn’t have anything to do with your late night phone call?” Vivian asked and I gaped at her.

“How in the world did you hear me on the phone when you had all
that
going on?
”
I waved my hand around.

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Who called then? There are only so many things a late night call can be about. A family tragedy, a drunk friend needing a ride home. Or a booty call. Given your general cranktastic demeanor, I would say the latter is off the table. So what was it? Is everything okay?”

“You forgot to add random drunk dialing to that list,” I said.

Vivian’s eyes widened. “Who drunk dialed you? Was it Mitch? Because he was pretty lit up when we left.”

I took another fortifying sip of coffee before answering her. “Give the lady a gold star.”

Vivian frowned. “But Sophie was there. What the hell is he playing?”

“Well she interrupted towards the end, telling him to come to bed. So I have no idea.”

Vivian pursed her lips together. “I don’t get you two. You fuck. You don’t talk. You have screaming fights. You avoid each other. You have late night phone calls. He goes back to his girlfriend. You are one messed up pair.”

“Says the woman who used to cat fight for her man’s attention,” I snapped.

Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well I grew up. I figured out that wasn’t a good way to be. I got honest with my feelings and stopped being a moron. Maybe you should take a leaf out of the Vivian Baily guide to men.”

“He’s with Sophie—”

“And he’s calling you at two in the morning. The both of you need to sort your shit out once and for all. We’re all a little tired of the yo-yo.”

I drew myself upright. “I’m so sorry that my love life isn’t going the way you think it should be!” I lowered my voice when I realized I was getting loud. “But things with Mitch have never been simple. We’ve always had really bad timing. Maybe we’re just not meant to synch up.”

“What’s so complicated about it? It seems pretty straightforward to me. He’s butt hurt because you ran out after screwing him. You have your nose out of joint because he rebounded with another girl. But at the end of the day he loves you. You love him. End of discussion.”

I stared down into my cup of coffee, annoyed at her blasé attitude. If it were her and Cole, she’d have blown a gasket at least three times this morning already.

“I don’t have my nose out of joint,” I complained.

Vivian snorted. “Sure you don’t.”

We finished the rest of our coffee in relative silence. I read the news on my phone and Vivian repainted her nails.

“I’d better get going—”

“I need to talk to you before you go,” Vivian cut me off.

“Okay. But I’m not talking about Mitch—” I glanced down at my phone to see the time. If I left now I’d be able to get into the office early and go over the article ideas…

“Cole and I want to move in together.”

I looked up from my phone, not sure I heard her correctly. “Huh?”

Vivian shrugged, but her eyes were worried. “Cole and I are going to move in together.”

“So you don’t
want
to move in together. You
are
moving in together,” I responded.

“He’s always here anyway. What’s the point of both of us paying rent?” Vivian started chewing on her bottom lip in a telltale sign that she was nervous.

“You want him to move in here?” I asked, horrified. I thought about last night’s crash, bam, whollop and shuddered at the thought of facing that twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I knew I couldn’t handle constant access to the Vivian and Cole peep show.

Just the other day I had come home from the grocery store to the sight of Cole walking around naked in the kitchen. He didn’t even bother covering up when I loudly dropped the bag onto the table.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I began but Vivian cut me off again. She had a bad habit of not letting me complete a thought.

“No, we want our own place, Gracie. He wouldn’t move in here, I’d be moving out.”

Oh.

Well, that changed things.

“When were you thinking of moving?” I asked weakly. I had to get to work. This was a really bad time to be having this conversation.

Vivian continued to chew on her lip. It was a wonder she had any skin left. “Next month.” She gave me a feeble smile.

“Next month,” I repeated dully.

“I know it seems sudden. But that gives you more than enough time to find another roommate if you need one. Though now that you’re fulltime at the magazine, maybe you could have the place all to yourself. Think how awesome that would be! You could put up those horrible pictures that I hate—”

“They’re Pollock prints. They’re abstract expressionist masterpieces,” I interrupted indignantly.

“Yeah, well they look like paint splatters on a piece of paper and they’re freaking ugly,” Vivian argued.

“Have you found a place then?” I asked.

Vivian grimaced. “Yeah, we signed the new lease last week.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. “You signed a lease without telling me first? That’s messed up, Viv!”

I wasn’t sure why I was getting so mad. I had my suspicions that Cole and Vivian were looking for their own place. In fact, I had encouraged them. I hated listening to their nightly romps through the paper-thin walls. Not only was it beyond gross, but it was a depressing reminder of how alone I was. Plus, the apartment was too cramped as it was, let alone with another person always around.

And as much as I liked Cole, I would be quite happy never seeing his penis ever again. Especially considering he seemed to think nothing of waving it around.

But Vivian and I had lived together for the better part of five years. I had grown accustomed to her crazy habits and vapid ways. I felt as though things were changing faster than I was ready for.

Vivian got up and hugged me, her pretty face contrite. “I’m so sorry, G. I should have told you sooner.” She squeezed me tighter. “I wasn’t even sure we were really going to do it. I think part of me is scared to make the step. I mean, it’s Cole Brandt, former slut extraordinaire.”

“And the man who loves you more than anything,” I reminded her.

Vivian sighed. “I know. I guess I just keep waiting for him to balk at the commitment.”

I understood her trepidation. She had Cole, as passionate and in love as they were, had one hell of a rocky start. But that was their past. I had no idea Viv still held onto those fears.

“He’s not letting you go, Vivian. You have nothing to worry about. He’s learned his lesson. He’s a lot quicker on the uptake than some of us.” I gave a self-deprecating laugh.

Vivian leaned her head against mine. “There’s nothing wrong with taking your time to get it right, babe.”

“Tell that to Mitch,” I muttered.

“He’s a dumbass and as much as I love him, he’s being a twat face,” Vivian quipped.

I didn’t want this to become yet another exhaustive discussion about Mitch I-like-to-call-you-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-twist-up-your-insides Abrams.

“First Maysie and Jordan get a house together now you and Cole are shacking up. Everyone’s growing up,” I whined but gave her a smile to let her know I didn’t hold it against her or anything. Well, not entirely. Maybe just a little.

“Stuff is changing really fast, sometimes I can barely keep up,” Vivian agreed.

“It seems like just yesterday we were tagging along with Maysie to Barton’s to hear the guys play. Now all my friends are settling down. I feel like I’m a little behind the curve here,” I remarked jokingly.

Vivian sat up and gave me a stern look. “You’re not behind the curve, Gracie. Don’t start that nonsense. But this is part of life. We grow up. We settle down. We build our lives. You’re doing the same. You’ve got a great job. Now you’ll have your own place. It’s like you’ll be a real, live grown up.” She lightly punched my arm.

“Oh wow. Do I get a membership card and everything?”

“I know you have this thing about being left out because Maysie’s with Jordan, Riley’s with Garrett, and I’m with Cole, but that’s just dumb. You’re our G. You’re important to all of us. Some more than others.” She gave me her wolfish smile.

“It’ll be strange around here without worrying about seeing Cole’s white ass first thing in the morning,” I sighed dramatically.

Vivian laughed and then she became serious. “I’ll miss you, G. We’ve been across the hall from each other for years. But that just means you’ll have to come over for sleepovers.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not twelve, Viv.”

Vivian hugged me again. “You’re my sister, Gracie. Always. Forever. Nothing will ever change that. Not boys. Not growing up and having families. You and me and Maysie and Riley are constant. We’re a team.”

I sniffled, not able to help the tears that misted my eyes. “Stop it. I have to go to work and I don’t want red eyes and smeared mascara,” I scolded her, not really meaning it.

Vivian smoothed down my hair and kissed my cheek. “Go use that skin cream before you go. Trust me.” I stuck out my tongue but did as I was told. Because damn it, she was right.

I
had twenty minutes to grab lunch and get back at the office. That wasn’t enough time to stand in line somewhere so I was forced to run to the grocery store on the corner and grab a salad.

I stood in the aisle trying to choose between a wilted Caesar salad and slightly more wilted Cobb salad. Neither looked appealing and I had a feeling it was going to be a random pick from the machine kind of lunch.

I glanced at the time on my phone and saw that I only had twelve minutes left until I had to be back for the meeting.

Working out of the Southern Garden office was taking some getting used to. It was my first job with regular hours. Freelancing didn’t require a skirt and blouse and working at the coffee shop before that certainly didn’t involve staff meetings and brainstorming sessions.

It was exciting. For the first time in years I felt invigorated. Like I was a part of something.

I had my head down, flipping through my calendar to see what else I had today when I walked right into the last person in the word I would ever want to see.

It was more a crashing of bodies that resulted in the other person dropping their basket of groceries.

“Oh crap, I’m so sorry,” I gasped, falling to my knees and hastily picking up cans of soup, a box of tampons, and four giant packs of Twizzlers.

“It’s fine,” the person responded, sounding like she was chewing on broken glass.

I slowly got to my feet and faced Sophie Lanier. Aka—the love of my life’s girlfriend.