CHAPTER ONE #2
She sighs through the phone. “Evangelina, I understand you’re hurt, but are you seriously going to pretend nothing happened to you?” There’s a long, pregnant pause. “You’ve lost enough irreplaceable people in the past few months, don’t you think?”
I’m well aware of the fact. It’s exactly why I’m so nervous to completely let my guard down. “I'm not losing all of my friends just because I don’t know how to read their minds.”
“Not my point.”
“It’s easier this way. Trust me.”
People lose people all the time—lovers leave, friends fade, parents die—it doesn’t mean the world stops spinning.
Even when it feels like yours has.
“I’m not trying to be pushy; I hope you know that,” Aunt Carrie assures. “I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to turn to avoidance.”
“I’m not avoiding anything.” Not anything I’m willing to admit, at least. “I’m just trying to get back to my normal life.”
“Yes, yes, back to normal . I know.” She sounds suspicious. “Are you sleeping, at least?”
I don’t answer for a long moment. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want her to worry. “I’m working on it.”
I can tell there’s something more Aunt Carrie wants to say, but before she can, there’s another knock on my door.
It’s Eden again. “Lina? Do you think you could help me hang this up?”
“Aunt Carrie, I’ve got to go help Eden with something. I’ll talk to you soon. Please, try not to worry about me. Hug the kids for me, and make sure Judy is behaving.” Her twin girls. My dog she’s taken in.
“I will try my best.” She still sounds worried, though. “Love you, sweet girl. Talk to you soon.”
“Love you too,” I reply, hanging up the phone.
Another knock.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
I open the door swiftly, reeling back at the sight of Eden. Red-faced. Sweating.
“Jesus.” My lips curve upward. “Did you run a marathon or hang a picture above our couch?”
“Neither.” Huffing out a breath, she gives me a mock downturned look. “Can you help me?”
My mouth parted both in shock and amusement. “You didn’t even get the picture hung up ?”
“I tried to do it by myself while you were on the phone. It’s way too heavy for my noodle arms.”
“You didn’t ask Meredith or Kara to help?”
“Kara left, and Meredith said she’s not helping me hang a picture of Audrey Hepburn.”
“Put her on the TV if you want to see her in the living room that badly!” Meredith calls from her bedroom.
Eden gives me a pointed look, as if to say, “See?”
“I also asked if you would see if Braxton could come over and help me!” she yells back toward Meredith’s room.
“Again, I don’t want a thousand-pound painting hanging over the place where we sit. That thing could kill one of us.”
Eden averts her back to me. “Will you help me?”
I step out into the living room, getting another look at the painting. I can see what Eden finds appealing about it, and in all honesty, I think we should all be grateful it’s not pink or red, considering those are two of the only colors that Eden’s bedroom consists of.
But the paint is dabbed on in thick layers, making the portrait 3-D. I can tell by looking at it that it’s extremely heavy, and the more I think about it, the more shocked I am that Eden was able to lift it at all when originally planning where it would go.
“Mer is right. If it’s super heavy, it needs to be mounted properly, and the two of us aren’t going to be able to do that.”
She lets out a winded breath. “Must the two of you be so logical?”
I doubt Meredith was really trying to be logical. She was likely just trying to get out of doing it.
Joining us in the living room, Meredith exits her room, now fully dressed with half blow-dried hair. She’s wearing baggy jeans with a floral tank top and a zip-up jacket over top.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Nowhere. I think Braxton’s coming over, though.”
I don’t question it, but only because I’ve come to the conclusion that Meredith and Braxton are confusing. Plain and simple.
Nobody knows what’s going on with them. According to the information I’ve gathered, they began dating at the beginning of last school year—during the year I was holed up in Boston—but they mysteriously broke up before leaving for summer vacation.
It seems plausible that they figured it wasn’t worth the hassle of being long distance for the summer when he’s in New York and she’s in Washington. That’s what we’ve all assumed happened. Neither of them has confirmed nor denied.
Now that everyone’s back in New Haven and living in the same apartment complex, it’s become easier for them to fall right back into place. They might not be technically dating , but they’re doing just about everything else together.
And I can’t fault her. Braxton’s a good guy, from what I’ve seen. He’s also cute. In a moms-love-him kind of way. He seems good for her.
“Perfect!” Eden beams. “He can help hang this!”
Meredith feigns enthusiasm. “Yeah, you can be the one to convince him of that.”
“Not like it would be hard,” Eden replies.
She’s got a point. Last week, Meredith texted him asking for a gallon of peanut butter half-baked ice cream on behalf of the four of us, and he did it with practically no questions asked. I’ve heard he has a twin sister, so it makes sense.
As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door, and I watch in amusement as Eden’s face lights up before she dashes to the door. Meredith looks like she considers rushing after her but lets out a hopeless sigh instead.
“Braxton! Just the person I was hoping for!” echoes through the entryway, and I look toward Meredith and laugh.
Whether she doesn’t want the painting hung because she doesn’t like it or because she wants Braxton to herself for the night, I have no idea. But even she quirks a small smile, not being able to deny how funny it is.
There’s a bit more chatter before the door shuts again and a blur of red hair comes skipping back into the living room.
“Where’s Braxton?” Meredith asks.
Eden smiles victoriously. “He’s going back to his apartment to grab some tools and to ask his roommate to come help him because I told him it was really heavy. ”
“I’m not sure how heavy it will be for a two hundred pound man in comparison to you, but sure.”
“Wait.” Meredith pauses. “Did you say his roommate ?”
“Yeah. Grant,” Eden confirms. “Or maybe Cam… but I would assume Grant.”
It makes Meredith look over at me. “You’re going to die when you see him.” She says it as if it’s a simple fact.
“What?”
“Oh my gosh, you’re so right!” Eden squeals. “He’s exactly your type, Lina—tall, dark hair, kind of brooding. The exact kind of guys Gage would hate whenever you would bring up your celebrity crushes.”
A chill runs up my spine at the mention of my ex-boyfriend. So much for hoping they would forget about him in the same way I’ve been trying to. Then again, they barely know anything that went down between Gage and me.
“Perfect,” I murmur under my breath.
“You won’t have to worry about him,” Meredith says, and if she didn’t sound so dry, it might be comforting. But I’ve learned over time that it’s her natural tone. “He’s a notorious playboy.”
“Yeah…” Eden trails off, clenching her teeth. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Yes, because that was totally my plan,” I joke as I head toward the kitchen. “I was actually going to start preparing for my future husband to walk through the door.”
I reach up to grab a glass from the cabinet above the counter right as I hear the door to our apartment reopen, and then two male voices filter through the entryway.
As he comes down the hall, I hear Braxton. “Alright, let’s see this painting.”
Meredith is already glaring at him by the time he makes it into the living room. His eyes immediately flit toward her, and his expression sours when he sees hers. “I’m sure it will only take us a few minutes,” he says, trying to assure her.
He approaches her, sets the toolbox he’s carrying on the coffee table, and reaches out to rest a hand on her shoulder. She nearly flinches.
Something about their relationship is weird . I cannot figure out what.
My attention is pulled from them right as he leans in to whisper something in her ear.
“Lina, this is Grant.”
I turn back toward the hallway that leads from the living room to the front door. Standing in the opening is exactly the type of guy Meredith and Eden described.
Well above six feet, messy dark brown hair, broad shoulders, and tanned skin. He even has a few tattoos on his hands and trailing up his wrist. I can’t see them entirely because of the long sleeve he’s wearing, but it’s enough to intrigue me.
My brain automatically memorizes him in the same way it does everything else, and I’m not mad about it.
Like the girls said, he’s exactly my type. Right down the line.
Now I’m kicking myself for not taking them more seriously. I should have believed Meredith when she said he would be my exact fantasy on legs. And I should have retreated into my bedroom at the mention of him coming over.
Because I shouldn’t even bother tempting myself with everything I said I’d avoid.
Now, I’m stuck standing here, glass ready to slip from my hand, as I greet this perfectly handsome stranger.