Chapter 16
Ipause the subway security footage when the phone begins vibrating. I glance at the screen, do a double take, then answer, worried something might be wrong.
“Hey, Kit.”
“Hey, Rory,” he answers easily, in a tone that doesn’t indicate there’s any emergency.
Yet it’s a Friday afternoon. I’m at work, and he’s presumably in his corner office at Kensington Consolidated. Kit and I have always gotten along, but we’ve never been on the sort of close terms where we randomly call each other to catch up. Especially in the middle of a weekday.
“Uh, what’s up?” I ask.
“Not much. I … I had lunch with Flynn earlier.”
Internally, I start freaking out. Because the only reason Kit would be calling me after talking to Flynn would be if Flynn mentioned me—us—and that was a conversation that wasn’t supposed to have happened yet.
I force out a flat, “Fun.”
“Yeah, we try to get together for lunch every couple of weeks. Locke’s offices aren’t far from mine, which is convenient.”
Something else occurs to me that I should have considered before agreeing to this elaborate facade.
Thanks to Kit, I’m going to have to see Flynn after this “ends.” Going to have to talk to him and hear about him, and if he ever decides to get engaged for real, I’ll witness that as well. The prospect is … unpleasant.
“He mentioned you guys are dating,” Kit continues.
I knew it was coming. I drop my forehead in my palm anyway, silently mouthing every bad word I can think of.
Kit’s waiting for a response, so I reply, “Yeah, we, uh … yeah, we are.”
“He also said you guys are keeping it to yourselves. Asked me not to say anything. So, if you could not tell him I called you, that would be appreciated.”
I will absolutely be discussing this with Flynn, and I don’t understand why he would have told Kit to keep it to himself. Unless it was some reverse psychology thing? There’s no advantage to us secretly pretending to date.
“I just wanted to let you know that I think it’s great.”
That sentence pulls me up short. Great? Kit thinks me and Flynn dating is great?
I’m not sure how to feel about that. Flynn is his best friend.
Obviously, Kit will support him. But their closeness also means Kit is aware of Flynn’s lackluster record when it comes to successful relationships.
And he’s aware of recent events in my love life.
I expected more caution, I guess? Reserved excitement?
I clear my throat. “Oh. Um, thanks. It’s not that—it’s still new.”
Way to sell the upcoming engagement, I chastise myself.
“Yeah, I get that. I’m not trying to—I’ll keep my mouth shut until you guys are ready to tell everyone. I just … be careful, Rory.”
I relax some. This is more what I was expecting Kit’s reaction to be. “I will be. I am being careful.”
“He’s serious about you, and I’m not sure what you’re open to, if this is to move on or if you’re looking for something substantial, but I’d hate to see Flynn get burned the first time he really puts himself out there, you know?”
I’m speechless.
Kit isn’t concerned about me. Not only at least. He’s worried about Flynn getting hurt? What the fuck did Flynn say to him?
“Flynn seems pretty flame retardant to me,” I state.
But as soon as I reference his nonchalance, I think about him admitting he picked a firm to impress his dad.
I wouldn’t have ever guessed he cared, based on his other comments about his father.
But Flynn caring about certain things does not mean he cares about me.
He knows exactly what this arrangement is.
It was his idea! He could have pursued acting instead of attending law school, it sounds like.
Kit laughs. “Yeah, well—”
Jackie raps on my desk as she passes it, pointing at the large clock on the wall. It’s 2:59. Our weekly staff meeting starts at three.
“I have to run, Kit. I’ve got a meeting.”
“No problem. We’ll talk soon. Bye.”
“Bye,” I repeat.
I grab the portfolio Wren gave me as a graduation gift, tuck it under my arm, then hurry toward the conference room. As I walk, I type.
Rory: You told Kit we’re dating?!?!
The indication Flynn is replying appears immediately. Despite my annoyance, I do appreciate his expeditiousness. Carson was typically unreachable while he was at work, and he sure wasn’t employed by a top-ranked law firm.
Flynn: Yeah.
I wait, but that’s it. His entire response.
I enter the conference room before I have time to text him again.
The meeting lasts the full hour, so it’s after four by the time I return to my desk.
I have no new messages from Flynn, but I do have a text from my mom, wondering when they should expect me this weekend.
I avoided details when I committed to coming, using the excuse of work, not sure how Flynn coming might affect my plans.
Right now, I don’t even know if Flynn is coming.
I went to bed before he got back from the gym, and I left before he was up, leaving a bowl of oatmeal and fresh coffee in what’s become our daily routine.
I make breakfast; he cooks dinner. And makes executive decisions during lunch.
“Bye, Rory,” Carla says, passing my desk.
“Bye. Have a good weekend!” I call after her.
She waves before leaving the office.
I suck in a deep, grounding breath, and then I call Flynn Parks. I’ve never called him before. I’ve barely texted him before. We live together. Sweat shouldn’t be prickling the back of my neck, and I shouldn’t be so aware of my heart banging against my ribs as I listen to the repeated ring.
He answers right when I start to slump in my chair, thinking I’ll get his voicemail. “I can’t talk. I’m at work.”
My teeth grit. That’s my line. “Well, you had time to—”
“One sec, Rory.”
I hear a woman’s voice in the background, faintly asking if Flynn is on his way to a meeting.
“I’ll be right there, Haley,” he tells her. “My girlfriend just had a question.”
How many people has he told about us? Flynn’s voice is a little muffled, like maybe he’s trying to cover the speaker, so I’m not sure if he’s intending for me to hear this or not.
“I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” the woman comments. Her voice is cheerful. She sounds young, so I don’t think I’m imagining the disappointment there too.
“I haven’t actually asked her to be my girlfriend yet,” Flynn stage-whispers. “I’m nervous she’ll say no.”
I roll my eyes.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” the woman tells Flynn, laughing a little—I assume at the absurdity of someone not finding his abrasive charm appealing.
“Got any tips for me?”
I huff with annoyance, sending my desk chair spinning in a circle and staring up at the water stain on the ceiling as I listen to a stranger tell Flynn about how her sister’s boyfriend planned an elaborate trip to make their relationship official.
It makes me wonder about Flynn’s past relationships. I never really paid close attention to them. He never brought a date to any events hosted by my family. Did he officially ask any of those women to be his girlfriend? Did he—
“So, what’s up?”
It takes me a second to realize Flynn’s voice is at a normal volume again. That he’s talking to me.
I lower my voice, although most of my coworkers left after the meeting ended. “What did you tell Kit about us?”
“Exactly what we discussed.”
“We discussed telling my family together.”
“He’s not only your family; he’s my best friend. Kit asked who I was dating. I didn’t want to lie to him.”
“You did lie to him,” I hiss.
“Only if you’re backing out. Are you backing out, Rory?”
“What if he says something to my parents?”
“He won’t.” Flynn sounds very certain about that, and I basically have no choice but to believe him.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing a long exhale out. “Are you coming this weekend?”
“I can’t make it. I’m sorry.”
I close my eyes, letting the stupid disappointment settle. “It’s fine. I’m going to drive out tonight since I’m almost done here. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Okay.” He hesitates, then adds, “Uh, drive safe.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up first.