5. Jared
JARED
This was the worst possible thing I could do right now. Lacie was vulnerable. Heck, I was vulnerable just being around her—probably why Tia had said what she did.
I’d tried hiding my feelings, but they probably evidenced themselves just the same. Maybe that was why people said the things they did about Lacie and me.
But I would go. I’d keep my distance. Comfort her. Help her.
Distantly.
I packed faster than a starving man at a buffet. As soon as I hung up with Lacie, I threw everything I needed into a suitcase, slipped into my shoes, and bolted out the door and to my Beemer within ten minutes.
The drive to Lacie’s was never anything I’d tracked before, but having a best friend with OCD tendencies to track the movement of the clock made me very aware that it took exactly eight point two minutes to get from my apartment to hers.
Lacie was already outside, standing beside her suitcase. She’d changed her hair, letting the auburn locks flow down her shoulders now. She’d also touched up her makeup—I’d seen the kind of damage crying did to her mascara before—and had a tiny I’m-trying-to-appear-happy smile on her face when I pulled up.
I got out and popped the trunk, but before I could load her suitcase with mine, I found my arms full, and I was breathing in the smell of her—lime and sea breeze in her hair.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, burrowing her nose into my chest.
I dipped my nose into her hair and breathed, loving the scent the way I always had, and I squeezed her back. But I was self-conscious about this hug in a way I never would have been before my conversation with Tia.
That conversation had tormented me the entire time I was packing. Would Tia mind? What would she do if she knew I was doing this?
I’d assured her I wouldn’t be spending Christmas anywhere near Lacie. And now, here I was, going out of town to stay at some hotel with her.
Yes. I had to keep my distance.
I patted her back, trying not to notice the softness of her hair or the way the sunlight drew out strands of gold amongst the auburn.
“We’d better not miss the flight.”
Lacie’s head reared up as if I’d told her I’d gotten tickets for her favorite band.
“You’re so right. What are you standing around for? Let’s go!” She gave another too-forced grin and shoved me gently away.
* * *
Lacie
The entire drive to the airport, the passage through security, and the flight once we boarded was a whole plate of awkward with a side dish of discomfort, and I couldn’t figure out why.
I’d gotten a text from my coworker, Cynthia, asking if I could watch her six-year-old for a few hours. I’d had to decline—as usual. One of these days, I might be able to help out, but the regret I felt at refusing a friend in need—and Cynthia’s response of It’s okay, I know you’re busy , fairly asserting the very thing Wyatt had accused me of being—wasn’t the thing bothering me the most.
I’d tried several times to lighten the mood with jokes or by showing Jared funny memes that I’d looked up while trying to distract myself from Wyatt’s horrible words and the sick feeling of being unwanted. Jared had smiled and played along, but his reactions weren’t the same.
Usually, he was easy casualness. He had his own set of memes to fire back with, or jokes relating to work, or some he’d heard from the guy friends he hung out with when he wasn’t with me.
Was the situation with Tia bothering him that much? Had I made a mistake in asking him to come?
I scrolled through my phone, determinedly not looking at the usual Pinterest boards and other places I typically spent my time on. (I didn’t need the reminder that every beautiful thing I’d pinned recently was now as good as ashes to me.) And I settled on a resolution:
Once this trip was over, I’d invite Tia out, girl-to-girl. I’d make every intention—or lack of intentions because there was nothing going on between us—as far as Jared was concerned completely clear.
Jared and I could never be a thing. He’d always just been Jared—my buddy. Shoulder to cry on. Sounding board. And I respected Tia too much to ever pursue anything.
Friendship was all we had. Keyword: friend.
Tia must have thought that was a problem because I hadn’t exerted much effort to extend that friendship to her. Women got jealous easily, I knew. So I resolved to do what I could to befriend Tia when we got back. I’d show her just how much nothing there was between Jared and me.
I scrolled past some cute puppies while Jared snoozed beside me. His head lolled against the side of the plane since he was in the window seat.
The whirring noise from the little air-conditioning funnel overhead by the fasten seatbelt light captured my attention, and I thought of the situation being reversed.
I could see where Tia was coming from. If Wyatt had a best friend who was a woman—a woman who always called him, who wanted him to come fix things when they broke or to give advice to her or to be the fill-in when others dogged out on her—yeah, that would probably bug me.
When it came to relationships, a man’s girl should be the only girl who mattered to him. Nothing and no one should get in the way of that. I knew that as well as anyone.
I’d just never thought of it in regard to Jared before.
Tim, Miguel, Mom, and Dad, Jared’s mom, Cynthia, my brother and sister, Francine from work—everyone knew if they wanted one of us, they got both of us.
I took for granted that everyone would see our friendship that way.
Peering at Jared, I took full advantage of him being asleep to absorb every aspect about him that I already knew so well. His toned arms and gently rising and falling torso, his bushy black eyebrows, the scar on his forehead that had made me tease him as Harry Potter more than once, the little bump on the bridge of his nose that I was tempted to trail my finger over.
He had impeccable bone structure. His jaw was steel, and he hadn’t shaved for a few days, so shadow pricked along his jawline, giving him a rugged appeal. My gaze drifted to the full pout in his lips.
They looked so soft. Heat coursed through me while something invisible drew me closer to him, tempting me to press mine to his.
Something flopped in my belly.
“Whoa,” I said with a breath, slamming my head back against my own seat and staring straight ahead.
What was that?
My heart raced way too fast. I knew Jared was attractive. More than once, girls during school had asked for my help in getting him to go out with them or getting him to ask them out. A few times, I’d told Jared as much and then we’d conspired together—either for or against the idea on his behalf.
And we’d kissed a couple of times, though the baby-ish ones that had taken place when we played house as kids didn’t really count.
But this was Jared. The tea-party Jared, the Barbie-playing Jared, the laser-tag, let’s-read-my-diary-together Jared. The treehouse builder, the weight-lifting buff, the lover of really bad eighties garage bands and soft jazz.
He was goofy and funny and huggable and a great listener. He could pick me up with one arm. He had a great belly laugh during the funny parts of movies.
I’d always known those things. I couldn’t go adding the shape of his mouth to that list. That would do absolutely no good, not when this was meant to be the last trip we took together.
That thought choked my heart, and I wasn’t sure how I could let it be that way.
Could I really let him go?