Chapter 20 – Rule #9 No outside contact. Ever. #3
“If you were going to the Near West Side daily, say for graduate studies at UIC, I’d say Hyde Park,” he says, supremely irritating in his ability to read between the lines.
“You’d be quite close to the Near West Side.
It’s safe. The whole of Chicago is expensive, but it’s not obscenely expensive, and it’s a quick train downtown.
There’s this great little coffee shop called the Other Bean,” he says.
“It’s in the best part of Hyde Park with apartments above.
Places are always available, some with parking.
That’s where I live. I mean, Hyde Park is where I live, but not in that building. ”
“Interesting.”
“You know, you should ask Henry. Don’t be surprised if his recommendation is the same exact address as his.” Julian chuckles.
“Thank you, Julian,” I say, grateful. “For everything. Hypothetically, I can’t wait to meet you.”
“Oh, the pleasure will be all mine. Oh, that’s not entirely accurate now, is it? Henry will be ecstatic.”
“I hope you’re right.” I try to sound confident, but I’m anything but. What if I’m not enough of one thing and too much of another?
“I can’t believe I’m going to get to witness it,” he says, gleeful, and I picture him rubbing his hands together like a bad guy in a cartoon. “Can I record it for posterity? I’m so tired of waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” I ask.
“Don’t play stupid. It doesn’t suit you,” Julian says, his accent crisp with the rebuke. “Waiting for Henry to figure out that he loves you. That every song you add to that Today playlist is a love letter. That you love him. That you two have something special brewing.”
“I don’t know about all of that.” I draw in a deep breath, but it doesn’t calm the anxiety or the pressure building in my chest. “There was a woman when he was in Ireland, and he turned her down, but he told me at least five times he knew I wasn’t his girlfriend, and I couldn’t help but think he was trying to kindly tell me that he wasn’t feeling it. ”
“Then I gave you too much credit, thinking you were less slow than Henry, Lord Slug of the Clan McTurtle.” That makes me laugh out loud. Julian’s using my own smart-ass comments against me.
I’ve tried to forget, but Henry’s off-the-cuff comment months ago about our future still stings. “A while back, he told me he was ‘amenable to a friends-with-benefits situation,’ and I worry that is what he really wants. I don’t think he does, but shouldn’t he know better than me?”
Julian groans. “What an absolute plonker. He doesn’t mean it, Kait. He has no idea.”
“I think he knows exactly what he speaks, Julian.”
I’ve said I’d wait for him, and I meant it, but what if he’s never with me on this?
Julian huffs. “If you said to Laird McTurtle, ‘Yes, let’s be friends with benefits. Dating lots of men and meeting new people is just what I need in a new city,’ he would shit his knickers and beg on his hands and knees to make it exclusive. I promise, Kait. I’ll even solemnly vow.”
I do admire snark in a person. Julian is the cherry on top of my Henry sundae.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, as though he’s sharing a state secret.
“Of course I bloody well can. He’s starting to figure it out, Kait.
” He says it in a conspiratorial whisper, then stops talking.
Silence. I won’t cave. I’ve had years of practice playing this game with Jessica. I can be comfortable with silence.
I’m not going to play his game.
I won’t.
“Is there something you want to know, Kait?”
“No, not at all,” I say. Argh.
“Yes, that’s right. You don’t care who he dates, right? You don’t love him or want to have his black-haired, green-eyed Irish babies.”
He stops.
Again with the silence.
“I thought we were aspiring besties, Julian, but this makes me think we’re frenemies, arch-frenemies.”
“Fine,” he huffs.
The wound that opens in my chest is a killing blow. I blink once, then a dozen times to keep the excess moisture from spilling. Allergies.
“Saoirse called me last Monday because Henry said the words—and I quote—‘I’m emotionally involved’ at family dinner when they were teasing him about his girlfriend Kait.
This after months of probing questions about you because Saoirse told everyone about his new phone friend.
Our turtle didn’t lie—he didn’t say he had a girlfriend; he said he’s emotionally involved.
Don’t you worry about the friends-with-benefits thing for another moment.
He’s falling for you, hard if he’s talking about you to anyone other than Lachlan or Saoirse.
He isn’t ready to admit it—to you—yet. But he told his family about you. ”
I don’t have a response, but my heart is racing, and my palms are inexplicably moist. Moist. Eww.
Henry talked about me at family dinner and said he was emotionally involved?
I cover my mouth with my hands, but I have no idea why. I’ve been rendered utterly speechless. I’ve always thought he just needed a little more time, that maybe he felt a little bit more for me than just a friendship, but this? This is freaking fantastic.