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Authors: Sara Wylde

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BOOK: Slut
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“That’s easy for you to say because you have it.”

“That’s true. But since I can say it, let me do it.”

“I would never want you to think that I’m a mooch.” Rosa looked down at the strawberry.

Now it was her turn to hide away from something that hurt. “It’s okay. If I think you’re a mooch, I’ll tell you. That’s how this good girlfriend stuff works, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“Come on then. Let’s order in and get an overpriced pay-per-view.”

“There’s an MMA fight on I wouldn’t mind watching.”

I laughed. “MMA it is.”

“Thank god you’re not making me watch some sappy chick flick.”

But when we turned on the TV, we ended up watching a Gerard Butler romantic comedy. Because Gerard Butler and remote control vibrators.

The next morning, I was subdued on the ride back to the city because I knew I was going to have to talk to my dad about what happened between him and Rosa. I didn’t care who he slept with, I’d never had anyone but Claire I could actually call my friend. I didn’t want him to use her, or hurt her, or do anything that would push her away from me.

He could damn well give me that.

I’d never asked him for anything in relation to his affairs. I didn’t ask, and mostly he didn’t tell. I didn’t hold my breath about Miranda, even though I was never very nice to her, but I didn’t go out of my way to make it hard on him.

So he could do this for me.

And it would be a bitter pill for him to swallow because I was going to tell him that things with Thornton and I just weren’t going to work out and if that pissed all over his merger, that was just too bad.

I knew I was taking my allowance in my hands—my life.

But it was kind of time for that.

If he cut me off for making a decision that was best for me, then maybe it was time to rethink everything. I wasn’t in any way looking forward to making it on my own. I had no illusions about slumming it and working hard to make my own way. I could make my own way and work just as hard while living in comfort and style. No reason to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

But I was throwing out the bathwater. It was dirty. If the baby insisted on going, I’d do what I had to.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

When I got back to the apartment, Claire was in the kitchen wearing the prettiest butter yellow sundress and yellow wedge heels with ladybugs on the toe.

“Is that new
Chubbalicious
?”

She grinned. “You like it?”

“I love it. You should make me one in a bitty bitch size.”

Claire laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.” She cocked her head to the side. “There’s something different about you.”

I looked up at her. “Yeah? What? I didn’t do anything with my hair.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Maybe it’s the way you’re standing. The way you carry yourself. Your eyes. I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“Is it… bad?” I made a quick pass over my hair with my fingers.

“No. The opposite actually. It’s like you’ve dropped the weight of the world off your shoulders. Or something.”

I nodded. “Maybe I have.”

“Eventful weekend?”

“You could say that.” Yeah, one could definitely say that. I’d changed in this last weekend. It was like I’d gone to bed Friday one person and woke up Monday someone else. The molting had been painful and ugly, but my wings were starting to dry.

That gave me hope that maybe one day, I’d fly.

“I could, could I? So, are you engaged or something?”

I laughed. “No, that’s the last thing I’d be. But I am… turning over a new leaf. Had one of those epiphany things you’re so fond of.”

Claire grinned. “Those always suck at first, but then they’re pretty good.”

“Oh, hey.” I bit my lip. “I wanted to tell you that Kieran was here.”

The grin on her face faltered and she struggled to paste it in place. “When?”

“Last week. He wanted to tell you that he loves you. He wants to be your friend, Brant’s friend too. He says he’s not looking to trip you up, but he misses you. A lot.”

I could see her heart breaking with every word and I kind of wanted to take it back. But that wasn’t my place to keep that from her. It wasn’t up to me to decide what was best for her. That was up to her.

“Oh god. I can’t see him. I just can’t.”

I hugged her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“But maybe I should.”

“Why?”

“Because hiding from him doesn’t make my feelings for him go away. What he did, it wrecked me. But it made me make myself better too. And before everything, we were friends. We were best friends. I miss him. I miss what we had, but I don’t think we can get that back. We crossed a line. It’s like trying to stuff toothpaste back in the tube. You just can’t do it.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

“Probably.” Claire sighed. “After what he did, I could never be with him, but there’s a part of me that will always love him and always be in love with him, if that makes sense.”

It didn’t, not to me. But I had little to no experience with love. So I couldn’t comment.

“What about Brant?” That seemed like the most important question.

“Oh, I’m definitely in love with Brant. Mad, stupid, perfect love.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except, I know that nothing and no one is perfect. He’s asked me to go to Sweden with him. He got an interview with some international company and they want to fly him and a guest to Stockholm for a week.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s great news.”

“The bad news is if he gets it, he’ll have to move to Paris for at least a year.”

“Why is that bad news?”

“I’ll either have to leave here, or leave him.”

“How is it even a question? You’re in love with him. You can manage and design
Chubbalicious
from anywhere.”

I could hear the unspoken hanging in the air like a cloud. So I made it flesh. “Kieran.”

She nodded. “Yeah, Kieran.” She shrugged. “It’s stupid. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be with him. But I don’t want to go somewhere I know I’m never going to see him again.”

I exhaled, thinking about never seeing Thornton again and it caused me a particular pang that I didn’t much care for. “What does Brant think?”

“He said if I don’t want to go Paris, he won’t take the job.” She leaned back against the wall. “I don’t want to be the reason he passes up an opportunity like this. We’re not even living together and he wants me to move with him to freaking Paris.”

“That’s actually pretty damn romantic.”

“I know.” She sighed again. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that kind of commitment. Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but—Christ, I sound like an asshole. My perfect, hot, going to be making fucktons of money boyfriend asks me to go to Sweden for his interview—and it’s just a formality, he almost certainly has the job—and asks me to move to Paris with him, the most romantic city in the world, and I’m whining about it. I’m the most horrible girlfriend. I don’t know why he loves me.”

“No, it is scary. And I get it. I really do. Do you speak French?”

“Uh, no.”

“So, he wants you to move in with him, which is already a scary step. He wants you to do it in a country where you don’t know anyone, you don’t speak the language, you’ll be totally dependent on him and you just launched a business whose headquarters are here. Just thinking about your tax situation makes my head hurt.”

“He has a solution for that as well.” She bit her lip.

“Oh my God. Did he ask you to marry him?”

She nodded slowly.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I was too shocked. I think we’re moving way too fast, but I don’t know how to slow us down. He’s been nothing but understanding, and I know he loves me. I love him. But the idea of forever with anyone right now is terrifying. I need to get my feet under me.”

“So, trying to sweep you off your feet, so to say, isn’t the best idea right now.” I nodded.

“I know he’d listen to me and I know he wouldn’t hold it against me if I said I wanted to wait, but… it would hurt him. I can’t hurt him.”

“And now here comes Kieran wanting back into your life offering something familiar that once upon a time, you were sure you wanted more than anything.”

“Did he say he wanted me back?” Her eyes cut a sharp glance in my direction.

“Not in those words. He said he wanted to be your friend. But you know how that goes. He’s still in love with you. He fucked up. If he can get you back, he will.”

“He’ll fuck up again, because that’s just who he is. At least right now. It’s going to sound crazy when I say it, but he doesn’t have the self-esteem to be in a committed relationship.”

“If he did, is that really what you’d want? Kieran who never thinks about anyone but himself or Brant who loves you to the moon and stars and back again?”

She leaned over the counter. “Oh God.”

“Really? Kieran?”

She shook her head. “No. Not Kieran. I know that I’m still in love with the idea of him, not who he really is. But it’s hard to let go of a fantasy. That’s where
I
fucked up. I expected everything to be like I imagined it. I was as guilty of falling for the mask as everyone else.”

I nodded. “That’s kind of profound.”  It made me think about Thornton.

Just like everything else, I was always thinking about Thornton. It made me wonder if I’d built him up to something in my head that no one could achieve. I did think of him as perfect, and he wasn’t. No one could embody an ideal.

But Thornton Henry Edgeleaf III did.

Maybe that was part of my problem.

Except, maybe that was part of his problem, too. If he had to live up to these ideal standards his parents had set for him, and most assuredly his ancestors before him, maybe he expected too much of himself as well.

Too much of me.

Not enough of Brendan.

How much good will could doing a decent thing and not letting your friend drown buy you? It wasn’t really all that heroic. It was what anyone should’ve done in that situation and it sounded like Brendan was milking it like a teat.

Of course, I could never say that to him. Thornton would have to discover that for himself.

“Really? Because I don’t feel very profound. I feel lost,” Claire brought me back to the subject at hand.

“I think that’s okay to feel lost. I don’t think we’re supposed to have it figured out yet. Or that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I don’t plan on doing anything meaningful until I’m thirty.”

She laughed. “You always know how to make me laugh, Bex.”

“Eh, you know.” I shrugged. “I live to serve.” I studied her for a long moment. “For my part, if it were me, I’d choose Paris.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Hell yeah. If it doesn’t work out, you can always come home. You’ve got a friend always happy to buy you a ticket home and a place to live. It’s
Paris
with the man you love. What an adventure.”

“I guess I’m just scared.”

“Of what?” I didn’t discount she was afraid, I just wasn’t sure why.

“Of making the wrong choice.”

“Honey, if Brant’s the wrong choice, he’ll be the wrong choice here the same as Paris.”

She laughed. “I guess that’s true.”

“If you really can’t stand the thought of letting Kieran go, then maybe Brant is the wrong choice.”

“I don’t want that to be true.” She chewed her lip for a moment. “And I don’t think it is true. I think maybe he was just so much a part of my life that he was like a piece of me and he took that with him when he left.”

“Then that piece is his. Let him have it and grow something else in its place.”

“You’re the one that’s profound,” Claire teased me.

I shrugged. “Sometimes I know what I’m doing.” I laughed. “Actually, when it’s other people’s messes I always know how to clean them up. When it’s my own, I end up falling in it face first flailing in shit.”

“Don’t we all?” Claire smiled. “I think I’m going to tell him yes.”

“To which part?” I teased, knowing full well what she meant.

“Paris. And I’ll wear his ring, but I want a really long engagement.” She grinned, but she blushed.

I squealed and hugged her again. “We’re going to have the most fabulous going away party. I’m really so happy for you.”

I was. I was joyously happy for her. My heart swelled with warmth and joy. I wanted Claire to get her happily ever after not just because if she got one that meant maybe I could have one too, but because she deserved it.

Not that the universe had elected me judge and jury or anything, but it would fit with ideas about the way the world was supposed to work if she did.

“Not to piss on the parade, but what do you want me to tell Kieran if he stops by again? Are you perpetually not home?”

“No, but there are a lot of ways that could go wrong. So, I don’t want to see him without Brant. I don’t want there to be any stupid misunderstandings on anyone’s part.”

I thought about what had just happened with Brendan in Thornton’s room—as if I’d ever stopped thinking about it. “That’s pretty smart.” I nodded.

“You don’t think I’m just being a coward?”

“That’s not up to me, honey. That’s up to you. Do you feel like you’re being cowardly?”

“Kind of.”

“Then call Kieran. Arrange to meet him for coffee somewhere in public and somewhere neutral. Tell Brant what you’re doing and why.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I have to face him. I have to say goodbye. I didn’t really get a chance to do that. I mean, I did it in my own head. I told him to fuck off to his face. But, that’s not really a goodbye. That doesn’t honor the friendship that we had. Do you think Brant will understand?” Worry clouded her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure he will. He understood that you needed to Kieran out of your system and left you alone so you could do that. I don’t think he’s going to mind about a cup of coffee. But people are weird. Say he had a relationship with… April.” I brought up the former friend who’d had an affair with Kieran and it had ruined Claire’s and April’s friendship, Kieran’s and April’s too. “Say he wanted to have coffee with her because he needed to really say goodbye.” I shrugged. “How would that feel?”

Her face fell. “Like shit. But I guess I’d understand it.” She looked up at me again. “What would you do?”

“Run off to Jamaica by myself, probably.” I laughed, but it was true.

“Okay, that’s not helpful.” Claire grinned. “I’ll talk to Brant. That’s what I should’ve done to start with. I don’t know what I did to deserve a man like him.”

“You know, I’m usually in favor of keeping that kind of thing to yourself, but in this case, I think you should tell him.”

“Brant, you mean?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He should know how you feel about him. All of the sticky, juicy, emotional stuff that we tend not to tell each other. I think he’ll take good care of it.”

She smiled softly. “I think he will too.” She grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge. “So, what about you. How was your weekend?”

“It was a bag of dogshit rolled in ashes, but there were some diamonds in there and I’m currently trying to dig them out.”

BOOK: Slut
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