Chapter 11
VALENTINA
After the pool fiasco, it seemed Caden had needed more distance between us.
Like he couldn’t look at me without thinking about the outline of my breasts against the wet fabric of my soaked shirt, nipples poking against it.
Like he still remembered the way I’d climbed out of the pool after he’d gotten back with a dark shirt, one arm pushing against my chest to spare him the sight a second time.
When we’d split into groups, he’d always make sure to stick with Mike and Anni. When I was the first one to go to sleep, he’d be the last. When I stayed up a little longer, he’d excuse himself in sync with the last person leaving, only to not be left alone with me.
I should’ve been happy—relieved—about it. After all, it was the reason why I’d acted the way I had: so that he’d leave me alone. But it was as refreshing as it was driving me crazy.
The fact he and Mike had stayed home tonight, and weren’t with us at Blitz felt… strange. It also felt like it was entirely my fault.
What my friends saw it as, though, was the first opportunity to openly talk about him.
Which was fair enough. I loved gossiping as much as the next girl in her twenties, but the fact he was their topic, meant I had no excuse not to tell them about what had happened between us.
If I didn’t do it now, there’d be no way back.
I’d had one opportunity last week and missed my chance, and that couldn’t happen again.
If you love him so much, and you’re convinced he loves us, too, why isn’t he here then? Alfie raised an eyebrow, and impatiently waited for Iris’ counterpoint. Iris, who, of course, had been the one convinced that he loved us, and had been even more adamant on the point that she loved him.
Because this situation hadn’t already been bad enough.
Iris shrugged. Maybe they needed a boys-night in, she reasoned. Maybe Mike needed a break from Anni—
Hey! Anni narrowed her eyes, hand brushing through her blonde hair once.
Don’t blame me for that. I’m sure they’re having a much worse time at home, probably in front of the TV, watching one of their old games.
Her head shook in disbelief. If anything, I feel sorry for Caden that we left him behind.
Mike gets a little… intense when he’s in captain mode.
God, I hate that term. Captain mode, she trailed off.
Meanwhile, I could’ve easily put a stop to their guessing games:
Oh, no, guys, it’s easy. Caden’s trying to stay away from me because I don’t want a repeat of what was the best one-night stand of my life, and after I accidentally flashed him in the pool last week, he can’t seem to think about anything but a repeat.
Me neither, by the way. I can’t look at the man without thinking about the way he’d fucked me.
Fun! Right? Right? Why is nobody laughing?
That’s probably how it would’ve gone. How it would go— because I did need to tell them, and there was no better opportunity than now.
Valentina? Iris asked, nudging my shoulder with raised brows. What do you think?
I had a feeling I knew, but asked anyway, About?
My best friend’s eyes rolled, and I couldn’t blame her. Santa Claus! she snickered. What kind of question is that? You’re sharing a room with Caden—what do you think of him?
You’ve been suspiciously quiet, Alfie added, then seemed to realize, If you hate him, we can still buy that mattress. I swear the spare room is not that bad!
It’s quite bad, Anni argued. But not worse than you having to sleep with a guy you don’t even like.
And that just made it sound so much worse, I thought I needed to clarify, I’m not sleeping with him! Which sounded a little too hysterical, a little too much like compensation. I was sweating, I think.
The low light above us suddenly felt blindingly bright, like someone was shining a spotlight at me, ready to investigate what exactly had happened between me and Caden four months ago.
Iris was wearing a detective hat, smoking a cigar, holding a lamp to my face and angrily glowering until I broke.
In my head, that’s what the situation had turned into.
I tried to snap out of it, shook my head. I don’t hate him, I said. He’s… nice. And while they were all waiting for more than a he’s nice, I knew this was it.
Alfie took a sip from his drink, Iris checked her phone, and I knew this was the moment. I’d simply open my mouth and casually mention it. I think my eyes closed, and it wasn’t a conscious choice. We’ve actually… met before. So I’m not… surprised. That he’s nice, I mean.
Silence. Probably because they needed to digest the fact— needed a minute to understand that I’d basically lied to them. I winced when I opened my eyes again.
But no one was looking back at me.
They were focused on Iris’ phone, which she’d placed in the middle of the table.
And now that I’d opened my eyes, we were all looking at the same Instagram story.
Of Jason. The same guy who’d said he didn’t want a relationship, then got into one, weeks later.
The same guy she’d been seeing again after they’d broken up.
And the same guy who’d been the reason I hadn’t told her about Caden in the first place.
They’re back together. Iris basically whispered the words, still focused on her phone. A mirror picture of them took up the entire screen. You couldn’t see Jason’s face, but I trusted Iris to identify him by fingernails alone.
This was not the time for I told you so, though. Anni and Alfie both agreed, all we had to do was take a single glance at one another.
That bastard, Alfie shouted, then snatched Iris’ phone off the table and let it disappear in Anni’s bag, beside him in the booth.
We could slash his tires. Throw eggs.
Iris’ lips twitched, but she couldn’t muster the same enthusiasm yet. Her head fell against my shoulder, and the way my hand disappeared in her hair seemed like second nature. I didn’t even have to think about it.
What do I do now? she wondered from my shoulder, and a single, humorless laugh accompanied the desperation in her voice. That need to do something when it wasn’t her place to do anything at all.
Block him, then never think about that fuckface again. I promise you’ll be better off, I offered.
I feel like I gave a few good suggestions. Anni was clearly talking about the tire slashing-egg throwing combination that I wasn’t opposed to, either.
We’ll get in a car right now if you want to, Iris, Alfie assured. Just say the word.
And I kind of thought—hoped—she would. Another version of Iris would be on her way to the car right now.
This one, though, just sank further into her seat, until she slipped from my shoulder to my lap and sighed, loudly.
Her eyes were closed, shut tightly, because she would shed at least one tear otherwise—and she hated doing that for men.
Iris only let herself cry when a girl broke her heart (At least they’re pretty).
An hour later, when we’d adequately debriefed (and still weren’t halfway done), Iris remembered my almost-confession. Asked what I’d meant, and reminded the rest of the fact that I’d met Caden before, too.
Just at a party. We talked for a bit, I’d said, because boy-problems always reminded Iris of her first of those, which inevitably made her think of the NFR more, as well. So this was hardly the time to tell her I’d like to break it.
Not now, when she needed a good friend so badly. A friend she could trust and rely on. A friend who wouldn’t lie to her, and who hadn’t slept with Caden Callahan.