29. Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Twenty-nine
Samantha
We never made it to spin class.
We got as far as the lobby before Adrian stopped putting up with my stumbling, muttered excuses that didn’t make a lick of sense.
He took my bag and my arm, pulled me back into the elevator, and hit the button for his floor.
The whole way up, he stared at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
By the time he shoved me into his condo, his jaw was tight, and his back was against the door, blocking any way I had of escaping.
I flopped on his couch in defeat.
“Did you come from Nate’s place?” he asked, pacing in front of me.
“Yes.”
He stopped, his hands on his hips. “Are you going to elaborate?”
I shrugged. “It’s what you think—well, not exactly what you think. We didn’t hook up last night.”
“So you slept over with my brother without hooking up?” This seemed to disturb him more. “Are you in a relationship with Nate?”
“No.” I shook my head adamantly. “Absolutely not.”
He pinned me with a hard stare. “Has this been going on since the wedding?”
I nodded, guilty. “Basically, yes. When I told you about the first time, I really didn’t think it would happen again, but…it did.”
“But you’re not in a relationship.”
“No. And the sex part is finished now too.”
His head jerked back in surprise. “Why?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Which part?”
“Both, I guess. Why is it ending? Why did you keep it secret all this time? Why no relationship?”
“That’s a lot of questions.” I patted the cushion beside me. “Please sit. Looking up at you is giving me a crick in my neck.”
“I’m not sure I want to sit beside you right now, Sammie. I’m kinda pissed at you.” His eyes rolled to the ceiling. “And that dick—I’m really pissed at him. You, at least, had the decency to tell me about the first time. He hasn’t said a single word.”
“Don’t blame Nate for any of this.”
Adrian ignored me, pacing the floor a few more times before sitting on the armchair diagonal from the couch. That he wouldn’t sit beside me made my heart pinch, but I couldn’t say I didn’t deserve it.
He braced his elbows on his knees and pressed his palms together. “All right. Why’d you keep this a secret? I didn’t think we were like that.”
“We’re not like that.” I rolled my lips over my teeth, trying to choose my words carefully. “This is one of those times I really wish I hadn’t chosen a boy as my best friend for life. I could have used a girlfriend to brag about how stellar my sex life has been the past couple months—”
Adrian’s wince proved my point. “I don’t need details.”
“And that’s why I didn’t tell you.”
He leveled me with a hard stare. “You could have told me it was happening without giving me details, dammit. I feel like a fool. Nate wanting to tag along to California? Did I charter a jet so you two could have a hotel fuckfest?”
I shot my middle finger at him. “Shut up, Andrea. I had no idea he was going to be on the plane. We weren’t trying to play you for a fool. You know me better than that, and I really hope you know Nate isn’t like that.”
“I don’t know jack about Nate. He breezes in and out of the family without telling us what he’s up to. Hell, you probably know more about him than his brothers do.”
“I know what he likes in bed.”
Once the statement left my mouth, I realized it wasn’t true at all. I had learned a lot about Nate over the past couple months. So much more than what he liked in bed. I felt awful all over for even saying that.
I was the only one who knew he was visiting Louise regularly.
He’d told me how Rosalie had left him feeling like he wasn’t good enough to be in another relationship.
He didn’t sleep well, but he didn’t want anyone to worry, so he hid it.
His medication left him numb sometimes, but he was scared to change anything.
What he sounded like laughing with pure joy…
Maybe Adrian was right to be mad. Nate had revealed a whole hell of a lot about himself to me, and I hadn’t even known how lucky I’d been to be given all of it.
Adrian held up a hand before I could say anything else. “That I don’t need to know, Samuel.”
“Then tell me what you want to know. I don’t like when you’re mad at me.”
“When have I ever been mad at you?”
“Never.” I folded my arms around my middle. “That’s why I don’t like it.”
He finally leaned back, but he wasn’t relaxed. His knee was bobbing up and down a mile a minute, and one finger was tapping out a staccato beat on the armrest.
“Why’d you keep it a secret?”
“Because it was supposed to be only physical. I told you the first time, but I really didn’t think you needed to know when it happened again. And then…it kept happening…but I figured it would end sooner rather than later.”
At least, that was how I’d rationalized it to myself. And maybe my excuses would have flown in a different kind of friendship. Ade and I didn’t have secrets. We overshared, if anything. I’d intentionally kept this…thing between Nate and me from him because I hadn’t wanted to hear his opinion on it.
I hadn’t wanted him to tell me to stop.
Adrian was sharp as a tack and didn’t miss anything. “You said ‘supposed to’—does that mean it was more than physical?”
I nodded slowly. “We became friends.”
“Friends with benefits,” he said almost to himself, working it out in his mind. “Why’s it over then? Did he fuck up?”
“Absolutely not. Nate is wonderful in all ways. I can’t imagine him ever fucking up.”
Adrian’s relaxed pose went rigid in an instant. He leaned forward, his gaze assessing. “You’re not saying something. Nate’s wonderful, he’s your friend, and judging by the pile of clothes in that bag, your sleepovers were frequent. Why do you look like you just got back from a funeral?”
“All those things are true, Ade.” I opened my palms in my lap, defeated. “He wants more, and I can’t do that, so we ended things. We’ll be friends. Eventually. For now, I’m going to stay away.”
He blinked hard. “Why can’t you?”
“It’s too messy. I like Nate so much. The last thing I want to do is try to be in a relationship with him and watch it all fall apart.
Then things with you and me might never be the same.
I won’t feel right about going to family stuff when he’s there, and then what?
I’ll lose the only family I have, and my best friend… ”
I rambled on when he didn’t say anything.
“I know it sounds pessimistic, but I’ve never made it past the six-month mark with a man, and those relationships only lasted because I bent over backward to make them.
With Nate, he’s already seen so many ugly, tender sides of me, I couldn’t backtrack to hide them even if I tried. ”
“Sammie—”
I knew he was going to say we’d still be friends if things between Nate and me didn’t work out, but he didn’t know that.
How could I take that chance? Adrian was the one person I had.
My ride or die. If I lost him, if I didn’t always have him to lean on, I’d be alone in this world.
Or worse, I’d have to go begging my family for more of the scraps they threw at me when they were feeling generous.
“I can’t, Adrian. Please don’t try to talk me out of this. I’ve thought about it. I promise I have, but I can’t.”
“But you could with Douche? You could with Jalen and Anders and Mikael? Not Nate, who is objectively a good human, a nice man, and—I hate you for making me say this—good in bed, but you could with the long line of douches before him?”
“It’s not that simple,” I argued weakly.
“I think it is.” His jaw rippled as he worked his molars back and forth. “I think it’s really simple, buddy, and I feel like a shithead for never calling you out on your pattern.”
I didn’t want to hear this, but still, I asked, “What pattern?”
“You date men who confirm what you think about yourself. I don’t know how you do it, but you keep finding men who have as much regard for you as your father does.
You find guys who treat you like you’re disposable and fold yourself like origami until you’re this pretty little shape they might like.
It’s never enough because that’s not who you are, and they’re pieces of shit.
But you keep doing it because you know this thing about yourself and need to keep proving it for some reason.
If you stopped and found someone who really loved you—you’d have to face the fact that your father never did. ”
I felt like I’d been shot. I must have looked like it too, because the next thing I knew, Adrian was beside me, pulling me into his arms. I wasn’t crying. I didn’t know what I was.
“I love you, buddy,” he said, gentle as a rolling cloud on a sunny day. “I’m not gonna be your husband, but I love you always.”
“I love you too,” I whispered.
He rocked us back and forth, soft and breezy.
“You’re my platonic missing piece, and I can’t get through life without you.
I’m sorry I had to say that mean shit to you.
I never want to make you sad, but the fact is, I should have said it a long time ago.
You can’t keep this up forever. I can’t sit by and watch you hurt yourself over and over just to justify the way your dad and family have always disregarded you. You deserve good things. You do.”
I sucked in a shaky breath. “I have good things.”
“You know what we’re talking about. You’ve only ever had one good boyfriend, and you broke up with him because he was too nice.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He sighed into my hair. “It was the start of this downhill slide you’ve been on. The men you choose are a form of self-harm. You have to see that.”
I gave him a weak shove. “You’re one to talk.”
“I don’t choose men.”
I scoffed. “You don’t choose anyone.”
He hummed. “We’re a pair of avoidants. It’s a wonder we aren’t repelled by each other.”
“It’s because we know we’ll never fall in love.” I let my head fall on his shoulder. “It’s safe here.”
“It is.” He patted my arm, but I wished it was Nate holding me, running his fingers through my hair.
“I’m not all you need, though. You’re a lover girl, Sammie.
You’ve always wanted a storybook ending, and that means having a prince-like dude sweep you off your feet.
There’s no one more princely than my big brother. ”
I had to pinch the underside of my leg to keep from crying. “I can’t believe you want me to be with Nate.”
“Mostly, I think that’s what you want.” He squeezed me one last time before letting go. Adrian had reached his quota for physical affection for the day. Honestly, I was a little taken aback at how much he’d given. I must have looked like a sad sack.
“It’s not going to happen,” I said.
“Because you’re under the belief you can’t sustain a long-term relationship.” He shook his head. “That’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard. Look at you and me.”
“We’re a mess, Ade.”
“We’re really not. Well, maybe I am, but I’ve been counting on you to come to your senses and be the healthy, successful one. Don’t let me down now.”
I let out a dry laugh. “No pressure or anything.”
“Absolutely none. Just my mental health, self-worth and future are riding on you finally figuring things out.”
“And this is the example of a healthy, long-term relationship you want to use?”
He shrugged. “It’s not for anyone but us to understand.” Then he gave my shoulder a nudge. “Go upstairs and get Nate. You have my blessing.”
I didn’t move. “It’s over, buddy. I promised I’d leave him at peace, and I really meant it.”
Disappointment distorted his features. “So you’re going to hurt yourself before he can? What if he was never going to hurt you and you’re walking away from that?”
“I don’t know.” I pinched the back of my thigh again, to feel something other than the fathomless pit in my stomach. “I don’t know how to answer you.”
“Sammie…” he sighed. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t either.” What was there to like? I knew what I was walking away from. The same way I knew I’d eventually find some other subpar guy who drove too fast or wouldn’t stop texting his ex or hated my friendship with Adrian, and I’d say, “Hey! You look like the one for me!”
It was a pattern. Ade was right. But there was comfort in the familiar. At least I knew how it would all end. At least I knew I’d be okay when it did.
He looked at me for a long time before groaning. “All right. I’m dropping it for the time being. I see you’re impersonating a brick wall.” He slapped my knee. “We missed spin, but your big ass still needs to work out. Let’s hit the road.”
“Wrong. It’s your flabby abs that need the workout.”
We worked out. We got smoothies. We were as normal as we could be while Adrian gave me the stink eye and I tried my damnedest not to focus on all the hard truths he’d said to me.
When we parted, he gave me a hug and promised we were okay.
I believed him. And I was ever so grateful I hadn’t screwed everything up between us.
But I didn’t quite believe I was okay. Deep down, I knew he was right.
There was a reason I’d chosen the men I had, and their resemblance to my father—not on the outside, I wasn’t that screwed up—couldn’t be denied.
What did I do about it?
I didn’t know. The prospect of fixing myself was too daunting to even face.
And I missed Nate.
Worse now that I couldn’t be mad at him. And I only had myself to blame.
All alone, filled with regret, next to a pile of wrinkled pajamas I never wanted to wear again.