Page 90 of The Great Dating Fake Off
Her lips turn down. “I think you may need to take Nella’s massage chair for a spin when you get home and recover from this week. You have Hulky-Smashy face.”
“I don’t fit in that thing. Brookstone chairs are a racket.” I force myself to meet her eye again. Looking at a friend when you’ve hurt them is worse than a bodily injury. “I fucked up big time. Alessia, I’m so sorry for risking your secret. More than you can ever know.”
She sighs. “I do know. Because I know you.”
“I am the worst.”
“Debatable. Billionaires still exist.”
I hang my head. “What can I do to make this right?”
“Easy.” She balls up a Celebrations by El shirt and throws it at my face. “Win the lottery and give me half. If billionaires have to exist, I want to be one of them.”
My heart rate settles only slightly at the humor in her voice. I throw the shirt back.
She clutches it to her chest. “It was a horribly kept secret in the first place. Eloise and I share an address, Rossi. I brought her here as the caterer. You didn’t out me. I could’ve claimed you cheated and called it a day, but I outed me because I wanted to. Do not spend your time agonizing over this, okay?”
“But agonizing is so easy when you ruin a wedding,” I grumble.
Her sigh is gently scolding. “If you’re going to just sit there like a sad sack, then maybe you should help me pack.” She throws me a small, zippered bag. “Go round up our soaps and makeup and put them in here. Make sure the bottles are shut— Wait.” Her catlike eyes turn eager. “What happened downstairs with Nora? What’s going on with you two? Spill the beans.”
I squeeze the bag in my hand to offset the sharp pain that shoots through me. “Nothing. And after the talk she and I had, it’s clear nothing ever will.”
“Oh no. After all that, you’re done? That’s…” She trails off as she examines my face. I can’t imagine what she sees there. Her eyes flash with pity. “Do you want to talk about it?”
And tell her it hurts more than it should? That does no one any good. The sooner I stop talking about it, the sooner I’ll stop thinking about her.
“You know what I really want to do?” I shove off the bed, which is a carbon copy of the one Nora and I shared last night. “Bag my best friend’s toiletries.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nora
The Boys and Girls Club mentor-mentee groups left the store about a half hour ago.
Sebastian wasn’t with them.
I’ve done everything I can think of to keep him off my mind since our last conversation—the one where he made it clear we aren’t an us, and we both agreed we can never be. But he’s been there, waiting for any invitation to waltz back in. And like a waltz, I am slow to forget him and quick-quick to drag every memory out of storage at the slightest provocation.
My foolish, clingy heart had hoped he’d come today so we could at least pretend things aren’t going to be weird forever. To salvage a possible friendship before he moves.
But he didn’t show up today.
Benji’s footfalls on the store’s creaky wooden floors grow louder. I shift in my cushy chair, dragging my gaze off the black iron light poles out the window.
“Legally I still have three more minutes on my break,” I inform him.
He leans over the back of my chair and deposits Tairn on my lap.
I stiffen for about two seconds before giving up on any sort of resistance. “Hey bud.”
Benji slinks around to block my view of the window. His stare pokes me right in the face. “There’s something very wrong with you.”
I stroke Tairn’s back. “Wow, flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I’m serious. You have never held Tairn without gloves, and definitely not while sitting down where you can’t easily run him back to his crate.”
“You deposited him on my lap,” I say. “Were you hoping I’d fling him across the store?”
