32. Thirty-Two
Thirty-Two
Lennon
T he thought of Noah coming over makes my stomach churn. I said a lot of shit in Minneapolis, and we haven’t talked in over a week.
There’s a very real fear that he’s coming over to continue telling me all the ways I’m a terrible person. I would most likely deserve it.
Luckily, Griffin had a last-minute gig in Nashville, so when Ellis called me yesterday, I first made fun of her for wallowing, and then invited her over. We spent the entire evening talking about everything but Noah–rehashing old memories from college.
I wash another plate, setting it in the drying rack before picking up a bowl when Ellis comes down from the upstairs.
“That new bed is immaculate. I could sleep in it forever. You’ve truly outdone yourself on the furniture.”
I smile, squeezing the sponge to make suds appear. “You’re the first person to stay in my bed-and-breakfast, Ellis. The compliment means a lot, but it’s actually just a memory foam mattress topper I got on sale.”
She leans over the counter next to me, her hair wild and matching pj set somewhat askew. “I must get one.”
I laugh, continuing washing the dishes from our all night snacking session while the morning sunlight bathes the kitchen in a soft glow.
“So,” she starts, turning until her back is leaning against the counter next to me.
“So,” I mock.
“Are we going to talk about Noah?”
I’ve never been a particularly anxious person, but her words spur me closer to the edge. Briefly, I consider taking edibles to soothe my rapidly beating heart. “No,” I say. “But he will be here in two hours. You’re welcome to stay.”
She chuckles. “Not after that bonfire. I’m not staying here at all.”
I wince, grabbing a towel and drying the plate I washed earlier. “Actually, we are kind of in a weird place right now.”
Ellis’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?” She must see something on my face because she has the mind to get in it. “What do you actually mean?”
“Some things happened with my family.”
“Your mom?”
“No.”
Ellis’s face falls, and I give in. The version is somewhat abridged. I don’t want to divulge too many details–weigh her down with all of my shit when she’s supposed to be here because she was feeling lonely.
“Well,” she starts. “I’ve never seen you truly all in with a relationship before. You usually keep some distance. Showing Noah your dad’s glowing personality seems like maybe we have some deep feelings here?”
I don’t answer and just keep drying the dishes, but the longer the silence stretches on, the more uncomfortable I get. Ellis expects an answer, and I feel obligated to give one.
“I’ve spent a lot of time trying to prove my father wrong–” I wave my hands around. “About all of this.”
Ellis smiles, something akin to the Cheshire cat. It’s like she knows something I don’t. “It’s so funny how you walk around seeking approval while pretending that isn’t what you’re doing.”
I glare at her. “You’re a real bitch, you know?”
“And so are you. It’s why we are friends.” Her smile eventually falls, and I turn to face her, noting the seriousness in her gaze. “Listen, you were there for me last spring when my dad showed up.”
“May that fucker rest in absolute distress. Burn in the lake of fire for all eternity.”
She huffs a laugh. “Don’t distract. You were there last year, and I want you to know that I’m here right now if you need to talk.”
My brows lower. “I think I need a distraction before he comes over.”
“Okay.” She pauses, thinking of what to say. “Griffin is acting really weird about my birthday this year. He’s been all off, and it’s making me nervous.”
I smile, looking out the window that showcases the backyard, now muddy and brown. I wish it would snow already. “Yeah,” I say. “I wouldn’t worry. I’m pretty sure Griffin just acts strange because he’s in love with you.”
“And Noah?” she asks, drawing my attention back to her.
I’m silent, and I think it says a lot.
When I started this thing, I knew I needed to be careful of my heart, but somehow I lost myself on the way. It’s not that Noah’s words hurt the most. They did hurt, absolutely. But it was the fact that he was the one to say them that cut the deepest.
I hadn’t thought about what that meant–what it indicated, but I think Ellis might be right. I might not love him, but I care. I care so fucking much, and it’s scary as shit.
I might love him.
It wouldn’t take much for me to cross that line.
I clear my throat, fully ready to deflect. “So,” I start. “I need to reorganize the hutch I thrifted in the dining room. I have some mismatched teacups that need to go in there. Want to help?”
Ellis doesn’t press. She just rolls her eyes. “Sure, Lennon. Sure.”