Page 38 of The Best Friend Problem
For now, he’d give her space while he regrouped. Get this firewood masquerading as a crib the hell out of here and send her some apology chili cheese fries. Could you get chili cheese fries delivered? He didn’t know, but he was going to find out. Because this failed attempt at…whatever the hell he’d been trying to do just proved that fatherhood wasn’t in the cards for him. He’d let Pru handle baby stuff from now on.
Everything would be fine, no matter what the sick, tightening cramp in his stomach told him. Things would be okay. They had to be.
Chapter Nine
F: You up?
P: It’s 2 in the afternoon and you are not as funny as you think, Jamison.
Finn chuckled as he read the reply from Pru. Happy she got his intended joke when he texted her the universal booty call. Honestly, he’d been a little worried. Things had been off with them ever since his dumb ass had decided to surprise Pru with the baby crib. The mess of wood and screws now lay in the workout room at the station, a taunting reminder of his failure, and of why he needed to step back and let Pru take the lead on this.
This was her thing, her dream. Just because he happened to help in the process didn’t mean she expected him to continue helping. He just didn’t know what to do, how to step up or step back. He knew Pru didn’t need his help, but how did he shut off the voice inside his head demanding he do his share?
He tapped Pru’s picture at the top of the conversation, hit the phone icon, then pressed the cell to his ear. He’d sent Pru an apology text after leaving her apartment the night before, but he’d only gotten a brief reply. Now, the phone rang twice. He held his breath, wondering if she would pick up.
“Oh my God, why are you calling me? Why can’t you text like a normal millennial?”
He laughed, the tension in his chest easing as Pru’s grumpy voice filled the line. Pru hated talking on the phone. She actively avoided it, making Mo and Lilly field all their business calls. If she cared enough to answer, she couldn’t be that upset.
“We were texting, but my fingers were cramping. Besides, I wanted to call and apologize again.”
A soft sigh filtered over the line. “You don’t have to apologize. In fact, I was just going to call you.”
A small weight lifted from his tense shoulders at her words. He hated conflict. Having Pru angry with him gave him a sour stomach no amount of antacid could cure.
“You were?”
“Yes, I know you were just trying to help, even though I don’t need any.”
He chuckled at her insistence. Pru could be stuck on the side of I-25 with no gas and a five mile walk to the nearest gas station and still not admit to needing help.
“But it was very sweet of you, and I’m sorry I acted…”
“Like a reality TV star getting voted off the island?”
“I was going to say ‘a bit hormonal.’”
“Hey!” He winced when his sharp exclamation woke Bruiser, who’d been sleeping peacefully in his lap. He rubbed the tiny dog behind her ears, lulling her back to sleep. “If I had said that, I’d be in trouble. How come you can say it?”
“Men should never call women hormonal. Even when they are,” she explained.
“Double standard.”
“Yeah? Once women get paid the same as men for doing twice the work, then we can talk about double standards.”
She had a solid point. “Touché.”
Glad they seemed to be back to normal, or as normal as they could get for the time being, he asked, “You wanna come over later? We’ve got two episodes of Single Woman Looking to finish.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“Yes, it’s a problem, Finn. A big problem.”
“Why?” He’d apologized, she’d apologized. He thought they were good now.
“Oh, man.” Mocking laughter filled his ear. “You totally forgot.”
