Fit for Love

31. Kendall

Chapter 31

Kendall

I cry all the way home, trying to process everything that’s happened and failing miserably.

Once I’m safely ensconced in my apartment, I call Emma, but she doesn’t pick up, probably because it’s late.

I cry myself to sleep.

In the morning, a phone call wakes me up. At first, I think it’s Ashton and my heart leaps with hope, but it’s Emma.

“Hey,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Hey,” Emma says. “I heard about you and Ashton.”

“You did?” I squeeze the phone tighter.

“Yesterday, on his way home, he called Marcus.”

The edges of my phone dig into my hand. “And what did he say?”

“I’m not supposed to say anything.” Emma sounds miserable. “Marcus wasn’t even supposed to tell me.”

“Oh.” A lump invades my throat. “I understand.”

“Are you crying?” Emma says on a gasp.

“No.” I wipe away the errant moisture under my eyes. When did it get there? “Why would I?”

“Listen… How about you tell me what happened from your point of view? Maybe I don’t need to tell you any secrets.”

So I do that, including, finally, fessing up to her about my secret business.

“I almost understand them looking at your feet,” Emma says. “But buying dirty socks? Used footwear?”

“That’s what you ask me after all that?”

“Sorry,” she says. “It does kind of explain why you get yourself so many pricey shoes. It’s a business expense.”

“Sure. We’ll call it that.” It has nothing to do with me having an almost orgasmic experience when shopping in a high-end shoe store. Nothing at all.

“How did you get into… that?” she asks.

“Remember my roommate from college?”

“The one you hated?”

“Yeah. She was doing the same thing, so when I needed the money, I decided why the hell not?”

“Why did you need the money?” she asks. “I thought your parents were helping you.”

I sigh. “My parents got into financial trouble shortly after we graduated—a malpractice suit in combination with lapsed malpractice insurance pretty much wiped them out—and I didn’t want to accept handouts from Cameron.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You had your own money problems. And I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me selling my body.”

“Even if you were truly selling your body—which your little side business doesn’t qualify as—I’d still think of you as my friend,” she says solemnly.

“There’s also the part where you know my parents,” I say, wiping another—this time, relieved—tear. “They’d be ashamed if they knew you’d found out about their financial issues. Dad loves talking about the lawsuit, but how it bankrupted them—not so much.”

“Oh, gotcha. Of course. Next time I see them, I’ll pretend I don’t know.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Now it’s your turn to tell me things.”

“Well, you’re right. Ashton is upset,” she says. “The mere fact that he called Marcus is a testament to that. Apparently, they don’t usually talk about feelings. They use each other as punching bags instead.”

Fuck. “So… you think that means it’s over?”

“Is that what you want?” she says softly.

“What difference does it make? I fucked it up. Whatever ‘it’ was.”

“Well, upset or not, he did want to move in with you—and that’s a serious step. From my experience, marriage follows that, so I doubt he’d give up on you after your first fight.”

“Wait. He wanted to move in with me?” I shout.

“Oops. That was one of the things I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“But… move in?”

“Didn’t you tell me he’s been spending the night with you every night?”

“Well, yeah. He and his dog.”

“And he works during the day, right?”

“Sure.”

“So… how would your life be all that different if you did move in together?”

My head spins. “That’s not the point. We weren’t even dating.”

“That’s not how he saw it. He told Marcus you were his girlfriend… until yesterday.”

This is ridiculous. “Why does the ‘until yesterday’ part make me so upset? I didn’t even know I was his girlfriend.”

“Maybe because you want to be?”

Do I? All my conversations with Ashton play in front of my mind’s eye. And the smiles. And the laughs. And the dinners, the massages, the toe-curling orgasms…

“Of course, I do,” I admit with a sigh. “But I was an idiot. I’m not sure if I can fix it now.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Emma says. “And I’ve got an idea of how you can go about it.”

I listen with bated breath, and as she tells me, I know that I’ll try her idea, which will either end with me getting Ashton back or my first-ever concussion.