Sunshine with You (Fort Bender #2)

1. Ashlie

CHAPTER ONE

ASHLIE

D on’t let your worry keep you from your joy . The refrain whirls through my head, taunting me like the unrealistic expectation it is. When I originally heard the words, they gave five-year-old me the courage to jump in the pool for the first time. Now, the phrase reminds me of my inadequacy. Worry and I are like California and sunshine—you rarely have one without the other. And joy? That’s a hard thing to come by these days too.

“Hold still, Ash!” My best friend’s voice jerks me out of my mental spiral. “You’re going to have pink all over your toes.” Kayla swipes her finger around my cuticle. She sits crisscross on my cream faux-fur area rug as I take my turn for a pedicure. The TV casts a reddened glow over her deep bronze skin. I wiggle my toes with a smile, and she glares at me, setting the polish on my mahogany coffee table. “I’ll stop right now…”

“And leave me with half-painted toes? Doubtful.” There’s no way she’d half-ass anything, pedicure or otherwise.

She rolls her eyes and picks up the polish with a sigh, losing to the perfectionist inside her. Settling back into the tan leather sofa with a satisfied smirk, I flick my eyes to the TV mounted on the wall. A Scandalized Phenomena marathon, and a night with my best friend is exactly what I need right now. I’ve missed this—spending time together until we’re sick of each other.

Kayla Harris and I have been best friends since we met in high school. We’re from a small town up the coast called Fort Bender, but with her living in San Francisco and me here in LA, we haven’t been able to have girls’ nights like this in a while. After picking her up from the airport this afternoon, we’ve jam-packed our evening with sushi, ice cream, mani-pedis, and our favorite show on Netvids.

She caps the nail polish and sits next to me, sweeping her black locs over her shoulder. My phone rumbles on the table, and I snatch it up before she can see it. Her eyes narrow immediately. “Who was that?”

“Uh, just Hunter.” Strategically turning my phone away from her, I check the message and stifle a laugh.

Hunter

Next time, you’re doing this shit.

Kayla doesn’t know this yet, but she’s getting engaged tomorrow. And apparently, there’s a complication at the cake shop.

“If it’s just my brother, why’d you grab it like that?” Her eyes pop wide. “Ew! Did you two?—”

“Uh-uh! Nope. That’s not ever happening.” I shake my head emphatically to convince her that her brother—my other best friend—is not someone I have any interest in. Hunter’s been a friend for years. Only a friend…except for that one time. But we don’t talk about that. I refuse. He’s the poster child for players et al. Having a casual relationship has never been something I’ve wanted.

“Hey, it’s your life.” Her hands tap her knees with nonchalance. Knowing her, she’s about to dig for details on my boyfr—scratch that—ex-boyfriend. It’ll be the third time she’s mentioned him today. “Speaking of... Where’s Marcus tonight?”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. “I thought we were having a girls’ night. We don’t need to talk about Marcus…”

“So, there’s something to talk about, then?” Her eyebrow lifts as she pins me with a stare.

“ Ugh , fine.” I swipe to my email and pull up the hurried message my boyfri— ex-boyfriend —sent a week ago. Scanning it over again like it’ll give me any more clarity on the abrupt end to our relationship probably isn’t the best idea. But I do it anyway.

____________________________________________________

From: Marcus Taylor

To: Ashley Willis

Ashley,

I regret to inform you that I can no longer pursue this relationship.

Best,

Marcus Taylor, MD

Resident Physician in Radiology

University of Los Angeles Medical Hospital

____________________________________________________

I may not seek out casual flings, but I clearly gravitate toward the emotionally detached, holier-than-thou types who pretend to want a relationship. Releasing a puff of air, I hand my phone to Kayla and bite my thumbnail.

Marcus and I were together long enough that this shitty means of communication shouldn’t have happened. Almost nine months, and he went out of his way to send a breakup via form letter, spelling my damn name wrong in the process. Who does that? I’ll log this into the growing evidence for why I’m such a failure another day. But he could have texted, at the least.

Kayla reads the email and scoffs. “Somehow, this doesn’t surprise me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My arms settle over my chest, fists balled tightly.

“It’s on brand for you. He was a horrible boyfriend, and I told you he would be after he showed up an hour late for your first three dates.”

“He’s a doctor. Things come up!” I dig my fingernails into my palms, frustrated that I’m still defending him, and pissed that she’s calling me out. Yes, I date shitty men. I don’t need her making me feel bad about it. “He was everything I was looking for—smart, successful, attractive. So what if he was late a few times? I’m late to things all the time.”

The finger aimed in my direction calls me out before her words do. “And that, right there, is why this keeps happening. You get defensive and double down instead of hearing what I’m saying. The guys you date don’t treat you well, Ash. You latch on to how they look on paper and won’t hear anyone’s concerns until they break your heart.”

“Oh, I hear you…” My eye roll is unstoppable. “All in my business with no permit.” She’s been on me about my taste in guys for years, along with Hunter and my sister, Willa. Everyone telling me what to do is really starting to get old. “Since you know everything, why don’t you set me up with all the great guys you’re surrounded by?” She doesn’t know any guys besides her boyfriend, so I gasp sarcastically. “Oh, wait…”

Her eyebrow quirks. “Maybe I will.”

Wait… Does she actually know a guy ? “Whatever. It’s not like he came with a warning label.”

Kayla’s eyes bug out of her head. “He was a walking red flag, Ash! You just saw what you wanted to see. At the end of the day, he treated you like an option instead of a priority. No different than Tyson. Or Logan. Or Brett?—”

“ Okaaay , you can stop now. Damn!” Defensive is my middle name, but who the hell wouldn’t be when someone’s calling out all your flaws?

“I’m just saying, this is your pattern. You’re so scared of trying something different and failing that you keep striking out with these douchebags. Ever since Bryan?—”

“So, you’re calling me a failure now?” That name sends a wall of deflection around me. She knows I don’t talk about him. He was the controlling wolf in sheep’s clothing who kicked off my string of bad dating habits. The longer we have this conversation, the worse I feel about everything. Bringing him up right now is a low blow.

My doomed relationships aside, I’m fully aware I’m a walking disappointment. I used to be so good at everything. From childhood, all the way until I graduated from the University of Los Angeles, I didn’t have to work too hard to be successful. My grades were always A’s and B’s, and I was the popular girl, no matter where I went. Hell, I was the damn swim team captain my senior year in college. Failure wasn’t ever something I experienced. Once I started teaching though, everything changed. I wasn’t inherently good at managing my time, or anything else anymore. I struck out hard .

Why won’t this emptiness go away ?

As if she can hear the berating thoughts in my head, Kayla bumps me with her elbow. “Being dumped in a shitty way doesn’t make you a failure, girl. You taught me that. But choosing to ignore habits that harm your self-esteem…that’s a surefire way to fail.” She places a hand on mine and squeezes, sitting with me while I spiral internally. Her words hit deep, but maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s time for me to do something about my fear of striking out—with dating and everything else in my life.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I close my eyes, blowing a dejected puff of air from my lips. I’m cutting my losses and leaving our conversation where it is. Talk about a melancholic way to end girls’ night.

My phone buzzes again.

Hunter

Cake crisis averted.

I have more important things to worry about right now, like my best friend’s engagement.