12. He Challenged the Friend
He Challenged the Friend
Toby
The changing room door swung open. Ian sauntered in, all smiles, running late for work as usual.
I slumped over on the bench by the lockers.
A coffee was in one hand, my phone in the other.
I nodded hello and turned my attention back to my screen.
The video of Noah babbling as he stuffed blueberries in his mouth looped on repeat, but it was the message below it that my eyes kept getting stuck on.
Toby
Morning, Gwen. Thanks for the cute as heck video. Love you both so much.
Gwen’s response? Black. Blank. Nothing . Would she ever respond to my messages? Even just once?
The way I missed Gwen clawed at my throat and stopped the air from reaching my lungs. She was everything to me. She was my air. I could barely breathe without her. I just needed one small sign to hang in there.
“Mate.” Ian’s hand slapped me on my shoulder as he passed. “You look like shit.”
I didn’t look up from my phone. “I’ve had a lot of thinking to do.”
“You?” Ian smirked. “Thinking?”
“Shove it.”
Ian wasn’t bothered by my sharp tongue. He grinned as he grabbed his white coat off the hanger. “Did you manage to convince Gwen to let you see the little guy again?” When I nodded, he asked cautiously, “How’d that go?”
“It was a train wreck.” The understatement of the century. “I didn’t exactly help the situation by acting the damn fool.”
“Poorly timed humor?”
“Obviously.”
“More flowers?”
I shook my head. “I cooked some dinners for her to put in the freezer. You know, to make the nights easier for her now she’s on her own. She just stood there staring at the containers as if I were trying to poison her or something.”
His eyebrow lifted. “You didn’t cook her that apricot chicken, did you?”
“Hey, my grandma used to make me that chicken! It was my favorite dinner growing up.”
Ian’s fingers stilled on the middle button of his coat. “So, you did make dear old Granny Sullivan’s apricot chicken?” He looked at me a little too long, a little too sharp, before smirking.
“Of course I made the stupid chicken.”
“A classic Toby move.”
I grumbled, “I think I need some new moves.”
“No doubt.” Ian laughed. “Want some tips?”
“From you? No.”
Ian only laughed louder. His palm splayed over his heart. “Mate, I’m wounded.”
“Sorry, no offense, but I’m trying to win Gwen back, not push her further away.” And I was doing a bang-up job of failing on both fronts. I didn’t admit that to him, though. “Your revolving door of blondes isn’t something I’m aiming for.”
“Mate, I don’t do that anymore. That shit got old.” He avoided my questioning look by focusing on fastening the buttons of his dental coat. “When the right woman’s in your life, it’s time to risk everything. Settle down. You know that.”
True, I did, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I gulped down the last of my coffee and pitched the empty cup into the recycling bin.
Ian slouched against the lockers, his hands in his pockets, and his head cocked to the side. The bastard was always watching. He was like Gwen. Too much thinking went on in his head.
“Mate, is something else going on?” he asked. “With everything happening with Gwen, I’ve given you some space, but…” He lifted his shoulder. “I feel like you’re avoiding me.”
I was.
I’d dodged him at work last week and steered clear of the gym. Every time he’d sent a message asking to catch up, I’d fobbed him off with some flimsy excuse. It wasn’t like me, and he’d noticed.
Usually, I was energized by dragging other people into my orbit. I preferred noise to floating aimlessly on my own. I was a vampire, sucking the life out of everyone, stealing it to complete myself. Yet another flaw to cover with the psychologist. That appointment couldn’t come quickly enough.
I wasn’t about to have a heart-to-heart with Ian, though. I’d spent too many hours staring at the empty car park at the hotel, replaying the night of the party in my head.
I don’t need a front-row seat.
My hand clenched. My breathing slowed. I sized Ian up. I was ready, but I didn’t move. I called on every last bit of my self-control not to stalk over and punch him in the face.
His forehead wrinkled, watching me closer.
I wasn’t smart like Gwen. Or him. I was shit at handling conflict. Should I risk hurtling down this road with my best mate? Even though I’d screwed up in ways I’d never imagined I was capable of, there was some sliver of a decent man left in me. Hell yes, I needed to say something.
I leveled my eyes on Ian. No joking around.
Deadly serious. “You knew what was going to happen at Kayleigh’s that night.
” He opened his mouth to deny it, but I was too quick off the mark.
“Don’t bother bullshitting me. You told me you had me covered.
You said you didn’t want a front-row seat and left me there. ”
Ian braced his hands on his hips and let out a tired sigh. “Mate, what do you want me to say? You and Kay are joined at the hip. No one else listens to her shit, but you hang off every damn word.”
“I do not!”
The look he shot at me was dubious. “Look, maybe no one else noticed how close you two were getting, but I sure as shit did.”
Gwen had noticed. She’d warned me. Why the hell hadn’t I listened to her?
Ian side-stepped the bin and bent over in front of me. “Kay’s into you. Fucking head-over-heels shit.” His voice lowered. “I thought you were into her, too. Remember when we talked at the party? Out on the balcony?”
I stared up at him, calm, despite my thoughts spiraling out of control. Broken bits of memories clogged my mind, but I couldn’t slot enough of the pieces together to remember talking to Ian on the balcony.
He sighed. “You said you needed a chance to get Kay alone. You wanted everyone else to fuck off, so… Jesus… Fill in the blanks, Tobes. Remember?”
My heart stopped in my chest. “I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you did.”
Anger surged through my blood. I stopped thinking, and the last frayed edge of my self-control snapped. “I didn’t say that!” I shot to my feet. Why was he lying about this?
Ian’s palm landed on my chest, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Calm down, okay?” He didn’t want to fight me. Wise move. “That night, you were fucking wasted. Maybe it was just the booze talking, yeah?”
The shake of my head was a furious denial. I would never have said that. Not drunk. Not sober. Not in a million years. I was lonely, aching for Gwen to look at me, but I had no feelings for Kayleigh. Not one .
“I know how I feel about Gwen. I’d die for that woman. I never said that about Kayleigh,” I insisted. “And even if I did, you tell me to go home and sleep it off. You don’t encourage me to screw around on my wife!”
He jerked a nod. “You’re right. I’m sorry.
It was a completely dog act, but you’re my best friend—no matter what.
You always looked out for me when the other kids gave me shit for being the poor kid of a single mum.
You stuck by me even though your mother hated my guts.
And now…” He sighed. “I thought it was my turn to look out for you. You’ve been miserable for months.
I thought being with Kay was what you wanted. ”
“Are you fucking crazy? I’d never cheat on Gwen!”
Ian’s palm disappeared from my chest. “You did, though.” He stepped back.
My fist stayed clenched by my side, but I was grateful for the space between us. “I never said I wanted to stay to…to…”
“You did , though.”
My hand clawing through my hair, I threw a helpless look around the changing room.
I’d give anything to retrace every step I’d taken and word I’d said the night of the party.
I’d change it all. I’d never go. My stomach clenched so tight I thought I’d puke all over the changing room floor.
I was tearing apart at the seams again—just like that moment with Kayleigh in her kitchen.
I hated that feeling. Lost. No direction.
And the one person I desperately wanted to talk to couldn’t look at me without disgust in her eyes.
“Tobes, I’m sorry. It was a giant fucking error of judgment on my part,” Ian said.
“I thought— fuck —what was I even thinking? You’re family to me.
I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I was thinking.
” His head cocked to the side again, back to watching, a little warier than before.
“Mate, if you need space to sort this out, I’ll cover you.
” His smile seemed uncertain. “Family first, right? Take some time off.”
My refusal was instant. “No.”
Work was the only thing stitching me together. If I had more free time, I’d only waste it staring at the empty car park at the hotel. I needed to keep moving forward. Doing something— anything —but not nothing.
I’d created this mess.
And now I needed to clean it up.