Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
Blakely
Swiping through the options in my closet, I chose a few dress options and tossed them onto my bed.
Tato watched me warily from the corner, likely worried that if he got too close, he’d be in the direct path of my frustration. I’d been in the same mood for nearly two weeks, so he’d grown used to it.
A knock came from my front door, and I tensed for a split second before I chastised myself. I tossed another miserable dress option on the bed and headed toward the door. I pulled it open, and a smiling Amanda greeted me from the other side.
“Hi!” she exclaimed, stepping inside and glancing around my apartment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more ‘Blakely’ place before.”
I smiled, but it felt forced. Thankfully, Amanda was still taking in my home—the dark green couch and dark multicolored rug, along with the plants lined up against the window—so she didn’t notice.
“Thanks,” I said. “Do you want anything to drink?”
She shook her head and dropped her bag next to mine on the small table I kept by the door. “Nope, let’s see your dress options.”
I groaned and led her back to my bedroom. “Oh, is this Tato?” she asked, crossing the room and kneeling down to pet him the second she spotted him. She cooed at him, and he flopped over, demanding belly rubs. “He’s so cute, Blake.”
“He is,” I said flatly. “Unlike all of my dress options.”
Amanda stood and turned as I motioned to the mess that was laid out over my bed. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline, and she appraised the chaos. Looking back up at me, she pulled her long blond hair up into a bun at the top of her head and started sifting through dresses.
“What about this one?” She pulled out a patterned dress that I’d meant to get rid of when I went through my stuff at my parents’ house. But I couldn’t make myself donate anything.
When I’d gone back to my parents’ house in Arkansas and realized they not only hadn’t told anyone I was missing but had also packed up my apartment in Austin and put all my stuff in storage “just in case,” I’d grown attached to, well, everything.
“I look like an emo middle schooler in that dress.”
Amanda looked at me like I was crazy, but tossed the dress onto a chair I had in the corner of the room. Tato watched from the same spot with rapt attention. It was the same thing over and over again for the next thirty minutes. Amanda would pick a dress, offer a way to style it, and I would come up with some reason why it wouldn’t work.
Amanda, Reed, and Josh were throwing a party at Reed’s parents lake house that weekend. We were all staying there Saturday night, and Sunday would include the usual day on the lake, but on Saturday during the day, there was a party which required a dress.
And I was really looking forward to it. I would be looking forward to it even more if I could shake my mood.
After running through every option available, Amanda plopped down onto my bed with a defeated sigh .
“Look, B, I’m not going to lie. You’re being impossible. What’s going on with you?”
I leaned against the wall across from her and let my head fall back until I stared up at the ceiling. It was on the tip of my tongue to make an excuse, the same excuse I’d made for almost two weeks every time the topic arose. I’d even used it that day talking to Dr. Mann during my therapy session.
If Dr. Mann had been frustrated with me before, he’d never let it show, but today he was on the cusp. I could feel it. When I was muttering one-word answers and all but refusing to participate, he nearly broke his stoic, unfazed demeanor.
So, I gave up a half-truth: that reacclimating to real life was harder than I expected, and when things weren’t perfect, it made me want to turn into myself and push people away.
But the real reason for my mood was six-foot-five, covered in tattoos with red hair, and had a knack for changing his goddamn mind.
Devon had called me like he said he would after I’d left his house and after he’d returned from his mom’s appointments. But our conversation was brief. We stuck to discussing his mom’s appointments and an upcoming work trip he had planned. Before I’d had the opportunity to bring up the kiss—or better yet, kiss es —we’d shared, he made an excuse to hang up.
Otherwise, we’d texted a little here and there, but his responses were vague and uninterested.
I didn’t want to regret that kiss we shared, but his reaction was making it hard not to. It was the old Blakely that acted on impulse, and even she was irritated with the way I’d gone about everything.
Everything that happened that night made me believe we wanted the same thing. Across the kitchen table from me, even with his mom and sister right there, he couldn’t stop looking at me. I caught him more than once staring longingly at my lips like he was remembering how they felt against his.
And the idea that his confession in the garage was anything but the truth was an impossibility. Devon wasn’t a good enough liar to fake that kind of emotion. I couldn’t have made it up. The intensity and the sincerity in every touch and every word—I wasn’t that delusional.
“Blake?” Amanda asked, and I sighed.
“I kissed Devon,” I said, the words tumbling from my mouth before I could think twice. “Well, we kissed each other. It was pretty mutual, but it happened two weeks ago, and he promised we would talk, but he’s avoiding me. And it’s really fucking with my head.”
It felt good to get the words off my chest, but when I looked at Amanda, I couldn’t read her expression. I expected shock or confusion, but what was written across her face was something completely different.
“I..umm…” she stuttered.
“I know,” I said. “It was stupid and reckless, and honestly, it just kind of happened, but?—”
“No, no, Blakely,” she said, straightening and pushing to sit on her knees. I stopped talking as she glanced down at her hands and winced as she continued. “I may have had something to do with that.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief.
She nodded, and finally I understood her unreadable expression: guilt and regret. “Devon told me about your kiss after he got back from Houston. It had been his intention to call and talk to you, but I—I told him it was probably better that he didn’t.”
“Why?” was the only question I could think to ask. All my other thoughts were too jumbled to form a cohesive, complex question.
She tossed her hands in the air in exasperation and slid off the bed. “I was worried that it was all too much too quick. You just came back into our lives, and I know you’re still dealing with a lot, so I wanted to make sure he wasn’t pushing you to do something you weren’t ready for.”
I shook my head and grabbed a handful of dresses from my bed and off the chair where they’d collected. “That was not your decision to make, Amanda.”
I walked into the closet and shoved them back onto the bar. When I reentered the room, Amanda stopped me with a hand on each of my arms. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have meddled or said anything to him. I genuinely was just worried about you. I could not feel worse about it. And I only think he listened to me because he wants so badly to make you happy.”
Her apology was sincere, but I would have never questioned that. Amanda had always been a bit of a meddler, and it was almost endearing that she felt we were again close enough that she could meddle in my life.
“Will you forgive me?” she asked, and I nodded automatically. There wasn’t a world in which I wouldn’t forgive her. She hugged me tightly and sighed in relief. “I’ll talk to him this weekend and straighten everything out.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” I told her, eyeing the rest of the dresses laid out on the bed. “I’ll talk to him and figure it out.”
She still looked upset with her actions, but instead of apologizing again, she turned back to the bed, too, and we both contemplated my options. After a minute or two, Amanda pushed a black dress and one that had an awkward cut out in the back aside and pulled out a dark green satin dress.
It was still new with the tags, and I couldn’t even remember what occasion I’d bought it for.
“I think this is the one,” she said confidently, holding it up to me and focusing with one eye closed. It was a little shorter, coming just above mid-thigh, and hanging a little lower in the back than I was comfortable with. But my hair would cover up any exposed skin if I left it down, so I couldn’t completely rule it out.
“Is it appropriate?”
Amanda scoffed and rolled her eyes, shoving the dress into my hands. “Yes, and it’s perfect if you want to wow Devon. Green is his favorite color. ”
I knew that, and the thought had crossed my mind. To make him a little crazy and give him a taste of his own medicine. I twirled around and held the dress up to my body while I looked in the full-length mirror. If it still fit right, it would hug my curves and leave just enough to the imagination.
A wicked smile split my face, and Amanda jumped and clapped behind me. “He’s not going to have any idea what hit him.”