27. Harrison
TWENTY-SEVEN
Harrison
“Finally. I almost forgot what you looked like.” Oliver slammed the refrigerator door closed and placed a hand over his heart as I stepped into the house.
I rolled my eyes before taking off my shoes and heading straight for the couch. Oliver strode out of the kitchen and hovered over me.
“Tell me all about Greece. How was the town? What did you do? How was the company?” He smirked down at me.
“How was Fiji?” I asked instead of attempting to answer any of his probing questions.
“Oh, you know, pretty good. Up until the last day when I convinced Nathan to go parasailing with me.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, in theory. But it was an especially windy day and we may have lost a teensy bit of control up there. We were fine, but Charlie wasn't thrilled. I think I’m banned from dragging Nathan on any more death-defying stunts—at least until after the wedding.”
“At least then she’ll inherit everything,” I said.
Oliver snickered. “Still so cynical. But don’t think I’m letting you evade my questions. How was your trip?”
“It was good,” I told him in the understatement of the century.
“ Good ,” he repeated. “That's it?”
“Yep.” I hardly wanted to confide in Oliver when I was still stressing about how painfully awkward the entire fucking trip home had been.
I had convinced myself I needed to make some sort of declaration or grand gesture, but when it came down to it, I had no clue what the hell I was doing. Each silent moment kept building on the last until all of a sudden there had been this insurmountable wall of uneasiness between us. I had created it, yet I still didn’t know how to tear it down.
“Spill,” Oliver insisted.
I got up and brushed by my best friend. “I need a shower,” I said, eager to delay this conversation for at least a little while longer.
But Oliver was nothing if not persistent. I had just stepped into the shower and dipped my head beneath the spray when I heard the door to the bathroom open.
“A little privacy, please,” I barked out.
“It’s my house,” he said.
I tore the curtain away to glare at him, but he was just sitting on the closed lid of the toilet without a care in the world.
“What happened between you and Lila?” he asked. “Was it weird traveling with her?” He asked the questions like he already knew everything.
I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and sighed. “Did Charlie say something?”
“Nope. But your tone just told me everything I need to know.”
“Damnit, Oliver. We haven't figured out anything yet. The last thing I want to do is share all the details with you.”
“No, that’s exactly what you should do, so I can make sure you don't mess anything up.”
“I probably already did,” I mumbled. I rinsed off and reached out of the shower to pluck a clean towel from the rack.
“How so?” Oliver questioned.
I tied the towel around my waist, opened the curtain, and walked right by him into my room, slightly slamming the door to ensure he got the message that he was not welcome.
“Harrison, did you guys hook up? Are you together? I knew it.” His voice came through muffled from the other side of the door.
I opened the top drawer of my dresser and grabbed a clean T-shirt, excited to be reunited with clothes that I hadn’t had in my suitcase the past five days.
“Come on, tell me,” he said, his voice getting louder.
It was clear Oliver wasn’t going to let this go, and I supposed maybe I could use his advice.
I threw open my door and shouldered him out of the way before trudging back into the living room and crashing on the couch.
“Something happened. Okay. You happy?” I waved a hand as he strode into the living room and folded his arms across his chest.
“Of course I’m happy. I've been trying to get you two together from day one. Now tell me everything.”
I groaned and dragged my hands over my face before relaying a basic synopsis of Lila and my time together in Greece. Skipping over some of the more intimate moments, of course. He might be my best friend, but he didn’t deserve those kinds of details.
“You were right. Lila is incredible, but I probably messed it all up.”
“How could you possibly have messed it all up in such a short amount of time? I know you’re capable, but that’s fast even for you.”
I launched a pillow at his face but he caught it with ease, irritating me further.
“The flight home was so weird. I kept psyching myself up to say something, but I couldn't figure out what. I just sat there like an idiot.”
“So you just kissed her goodbye and left?”
“No.” I grimaced.
“You didn't kiss her goodbye?” He looked appalled.
“I side-hugged her.”
“A side hug . Why didn't you just tattoo ‘I just want to be friends’ across your forehead.”
“Because I don’t.”
Oliver whistled and shook his head. “That’s what she thinks, guaranteed.”
“No, she doesn’t,” I insisted, although I wasn’t sure what I thought she thought. I couldn’t tell whether the flight home had been weird because I was making it weird or because she was second guessing everything. Maybe I wasn’t as appealing under the harsh fluorescent lights of reality. Maybe she regretted it all.
My chest tightened at the possibility.
“Dude, I can see you spiraling. It’s written all over your face.”
“I’m not spiraling,” I lied.
“You’re forgetting that I know you better than anyone,” Oliver pointed out.
“Fine. Maybe I am spiraling.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing the pounding in my head to recede. “I don’t know what to say to her.”
Oliver snorted. “You say how you feel, dumbass.”
“I don’t want to freak her out.”
“You’re probably already freaking her out.”
He had a point there.
“Look, you’ve never had a relationship before.”
“I was with that one girl that we met when we first moved out here, for, like, six months. What was her name, again? Natalie? Natasha?” I tried to remember, but all I could see was a blur of a face with blonde hair.
Oliver dipped his chin and shook his head. “Like I said, you’ve never had a real relationship before. You’ve always had one foot out the door.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I knew it was the truth. I never allowed myself to be fully invested, because if I was never fully invested, I’d never give someone the opportunity to hurt me. With Lila it was different. Even after such a short time together, she still held all the power. It’d kill me if she didn't want this anymore—or didn’t want to try. Which is probably why I’d acted like such an uptight mess the entire way home.
Oliver perched in the chair next to the couch.
“There’s a reason I’ve been pushing you and Lila together. I knew she’d be good for you, and I thought you’d be good for her, too.”
“We’re nothing alike,” I said, feeling defeated—like I’d already ruined everything beyond repair just by being tongue-tied.
“The two of us are nothing alike,” Oliver continued, gesturing from his chest to me. “But you’re still my best friend. And I want to see you happy, man. I want you to find someone who brings out the joy in you. I’ve seen it in small doses over the past twenty years, and I want to see it more. You don’t need to be a hard ass all the time. You’re allowed to enjoy your life.”
“I know,” I conceded. But I only knew that because Lila had made me realize it. She’d had more of an effect on me in the past few days than anyone else had on me my entire life. She was special. And I couldn’t just let that slip through my fingers without giving it my all. Maybe I’d come off frazzled, and maybe I’d say the wrong thing, but I had to try.
“I’m not good enough for her,” I said, but I was already up off the couch and searching the crowded coat hook for my jacket.
“You should probably let her be the judge of that,” Oliver said before I closed the front door behind me.