Keep Her (22 page)

Marcus:
Wow, stalker much? You okay?

Me:
Yes. Fine. I think.

Marcus:
Shit. Look at us two. Erase this fucking text history before anyone sees it and thinks we are the most pathetic, love-sick assholes ever.

Me:
LOL. True. Consider it done.

I threw the phone on the coffee table in front of me to prevent myself from dialing the next number stored in my brain. I fought with myself to forget it was there and paid attention to the game on television. The Yankees were losing and the game was uneventful, so I started to doze off. Just as I was about to go to that happy, sleepy place, the phone started buzzing on the table. I reached over to silence it and saw that it was an incoming text from Riley.
Shit!
I wasn’t going to ignore her. I’d have to answer her back.

Riley:
I know she’s there. I was with Marcus when you texted him. I don’t want to bother you, but I just want to make sure you’re okay.

Fuck!
I hadn’t thought about that. I’d have to be mindful of shit like this in the future. Whatever I said to Marcus about anything would always have the possibility of getting back to Riley. The hazards of carrying on a secret affair with your best friend’s sister—apparently there were more than I thought.

I didn’t want her to know what was going on in my head. I owed it to her to be fair and I owed myself more time to iron things out. Without much thought, I typed a response that gave nothing away, yet gave me more time.

Me:
Don’t worry your sweet little head, babe. It’s not what you think. I’ll call you in the morning.

It wasn’t a lie. I was omitting nothing and not leading her on. Plus it gave me until tomorrow to figure out what the hell I was going to do.

The men in my life would drive me to drink.

First there was Marcus, who I’d put on my own version of suicide watch. I still hadn’t told him Tessa was in Arizona and he was taking it out on inanimate objects, from what I’d seen of his place last night. After I’d settled in for the night, thinking about how I’d left off with Beck, Marcus called me up, demanding I take him to Tessa’s. I told him there was no use because she wasn’t there, but he’d been adamant. If it eased his mind to see things for himself, I figured I owed it to him as his sister to help him out.

But when he found her place empty—like I told him it would be—he really upped the let’s-take-it-out-on-Riley ante. First, he called me all kinds of hurtful names for not telling him where Tessa was.
That was strike one
. Then he blamed me over and over again for causing her to run off.
Strike two.
But the worst was when he accused me of being jealous of him because I was still alone.
Strike three—you’re out!
I couldn’t take the mental abuse from him at that point—even if he wasn’t himself. I understood he was hurt and needed an outlet for it all, but there was only so much I could take before I actually started to believe him.

After he refused to let me drive him back home, I’d left him alone at her house, wallowing in his self-pity. I drove home to my own loneliness, wishing I could call Beck to come over and make me feel better.

But Beck was one of the reasons I was currently on the verge of spiking my Monday morning protein shake. He and the chatter-happy Fallon, who was gloating about his blissful July Fourth weekend with his latest boy-toy.

Geez, I sounded bitter. I
was
bitter. I went from my own state of bliss over my blossoming relationship with Beck, to flat-lining it and not knowing where the hell I stood with him. All in a matter of hours. It was so damn odd it made my head spin.

“What’s with you, cookie face? You haven’t said much about the smoking hot fireman yet today.” Fallon finally came up for air.

“That’s because
you
haven’t shut up and there’s not much to say, anyway.” What
was
I supposed to say? I couldn’t understand it myself, so how could I explain it out loud.

“Wasn’t he there? I thought you said—”

“Yes, he was there. And yes we… spent some time together. But when he got home yesterday, Marissa, his ex, or whatever she is, was waiting for him. I haven’t heard from him since last night when he told me, in a text, that he would give me a call in the morning. It’s…” I looked down at my watch to see how long it’d been since I looked at it last. “It’s almost noon and he still hasn’t called. Safe to say, I’m thinking the worst.” There. That cat was out of the bag.

“Oh, honey. Here I am going on and on about Roger—why didn’t you tell me to shut up?” He stood from the seat by my desk to give me a comforting hug.

“I didn’t tell you to shut up because apparently I’m a jealous bitch who can’t be happy for anyone because I’m alone and will be forever.” I didn’t spit it out the way Marcus had, but rather tried to repeat the insult as if they weren’t words intended to hurt me.

“Who said that to you? Was it Beck? That hot little prick. I’ll—”

“You’ll what, Fallon?” I laughed, tilting my head. “He’d kick your ass and you know it, but that’s not who said it, anyway. He’s even bulkier and more hot headed, and a much bigger prick!”

“Marcus?”

“Yup.”

“But why?”

I went on to tell Fallon what had happened with Marcus and Tessa at the lake house. Fallon ate it up as if it were a soap opera instead of real life people that I cared about. He was the biggest gossipmonger I’d ever met—he had to be kicking himself for not accepting my invitation to the party. But, after I explained everything about Marcus and Tessa, the hardest thing left to decipher was what went on with Beck.

Fallon seemed just as baffled as I was. “It sounds like things went great, Ry. I don’t understand.”

“
You
don’t understand? How do you think
I
feel? One minute he was practically telling me he loved me,” —well, maybe not, but it seemed like things were headed that way—“and now he won’t even call me to tell me if he’s still freaking available. I should’ve known not to get my hopes up. Things were going too good. That’s usually a clear sign that the shit’s about to hit the fan. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.” That’s what bothered me so much. It was how quickly it all changed. I didn’t expect promises, but I also didn’t expect to be let down… like this. Without so much as a phone call.

“Do I call him, Fal? I really want to call him.” I sounded impossibly pathetic, but for once I didn’t care. I had to be truthful with Fallon. I’d like to say he wouldn’t judge—but he would. It was fine though, because his judgment was always critical, in a good way.

“Over my Jimmy-Choo-wearing lifeless body, you will!”

“Jimmy Choos?”

“I want to be buried in Jimmy Choos. We’ve been over this before, doll. An homage to my queens, my roots, my fashion-loving soul.”

I rolled my eyes, annoyed that I’d allowed him to get me off topic. “Ugh! Fine! Jimmies in the casket, but can we get back to Beck? Why can’t I call him?”

I joked around about how dramatic Fallon was, but when it came down to the nitty gritty, no one had better advice. He dragged a chair over beside me, sat and grabbed my hands in his. “Because he’s spooked. And if you call him after he told you he’d call, you’re gonna spook him even more.

“I don’t know what sent him running—whether he’s giving the ex another shot or not—but you need to let him chase
you
, honey, not the other way around. It sounds like he’s a good guy who’s probably scared of his intense feelings for you. He’s just coming off a two-year thing with that chick—whose profile we will stalk on Facebook all day today, by the way—and now he’s falling for you. Give the dude time. I bet he’ll come around a lot sooner than you think.”

It made me feel better, but it still didn’t make sense. Beck had never acted
spooked
by the way we fell so fast into whatever it was we had going on. I didn’t think the normal dating rules applied in this case, but maybe they did. Maybe I needed to let someone—even if it was Beck—chase me for a change.

I knew what I had to do. After years and years of doing the wrong thing when it came to guys, I had to change it up a bit. It mattered this time. I didn’t want to lose Beck, and if this was the only way to do it—let the games begin.

Fallon loved the word
aloof
. It was bound to be the next word out of his mouth if I let him go on. I wanted him to see he’d taught me something over the years. “I guess it’s time to put your training into action for once and for all, huh?”

“Why, darling. Whatever do you mean?” He batted his eyes, waiting for me to say it.

“Operation: Aloof Riley commences now.”

“That’s my girl! I knew you could do this!”

I
could
do this. I’d done it before. Beck was no different. I pulled up my big girl panties and fought to not check my watch or my cell phone too often. I kept busy consulting with the clients on my waiting list, and had Fallon schedule appointments for them. My calendar was starting to book well into the New Year and that made me happy. My career always made me happy; at least I had one constant in my life. But I wanted more. I wanted Beck. I wanted the happily ever after with the knight in shining armor. I’d done what my mom had told me by kissing lots of frogs, but I was tired of always winding up the damsel in distress when the frog turned out to be anything
but
a prince. Up until last night, Beck had seemed liked Prince Charming—forget charming, he was sexy, sweet, romantic, en-freaking-chanting. And now I had no idea if we’d ever be together again and there was nothing I could do about it.

“Hey, Miss Aloof—stop thinking.” Fallon caught me staring into space from the other side of the office and shook me out of my mental musings. He was right. I had a few more hours left in my workday and plenty of things to occupy my time. I could get through one day of not worrying.

The day was one thing, but the night was a whole different beast. After work, I went to the market to get a few things to make my dinner for one. I picked up a bottle of wine and some flowers to replace the ones that were wilting in my kitchen. All of this just reminded me of how alone I was. Strong, confident, witty, smart—I was all those things and wasn’t too shy to admit it, but I was also lonely.

Up until recently, I didn’t realize how badly I longed for someone to be home waiting for me with a home cooked meal, a bouquet of just-because-I-love-you flowers, and two wine glasses to toast our happiness. Was that too much to ask for? I really didn’t think so. Maybe I was just looking in the wrong places. Even though I thought for a fleeting moment that I could have all those things with Beck, it looked like I might have to start the search all over again.

Sipping my glass of Chianti and watching another rerun episode of
Friends
, I decided to check on Marcus. I dialed his number and waited for him to pick up, laughing at the awkward ways Chandler and Monica had to hide their relationship from Ross.
How ironic. I can’t even escape the memories in sitcom syndication heaven… sheesh.

“What?” He finally answered. He was obviously still brooding.