Page 154 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“Could be the case, but it’s also dark and chilly out here, so you’re probably not in your element.”
“Possibly,” I say. “Maybe we call it quits because the more I miss, the more my confidence is disintegrating.”
“Understandable,” he says. We pour out the water from the cups into the planter bushes a few spots down, and then place the stacked cups in my trunk along with the ping-pong balls.
Once I’ve turned the car on, I ask, “Shall I take you back to pick up your car?”
“Yeah, that would be good,” he says.
I pull out of the parking lot and head down the road toward the parking garage. This has been a weird night, full of ups and downs, leaving me feeling like I don’t quite know where I stand with him. And as I draw closer to the parking garage I feel this sick sense of panic.
Panic over not seeing him as often. Not communicating like we were. Not bonding as much. I hate to admit it, but even though I was attempting to help him hook up with someone else, I still enjoyed the moments I had with him. I still savored the moments I spent staring into his eyes—and knowing that he doesn’t need me anymore makes me extremely sad.
Tomorrow very well might be one of the last times we hang out, and I don’t know how I feel about that.
Actually, I do. I feel sick.
When I arrive at the garage, he tells me not to pull in so I don’t have to pay again. I park on the side of the road instead.
“Thanks for the ride,” he says.
“Of course. Sorry about the confusion with the dips. At least we can rest easy tonight.”
“We can.” After a few seconds of silence, he grips the handle to the door. “Well, I guess I’ll be going.”
That panic skyrockets inside of me and before I can stop myself, I say, “I don’t want to stop talking.”
He glances at me.
“Huh?”
Oh God, Everly, you’re such an idiot.
I twist my hands together, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry if this is out of line, but, I just…I’ve enjoyed our chats and whatnot, and I don’t know, I guess I’ll feel sad when they end.” I shrug, trying to look casual. “I like our emails.”
He slowly smiles. “I enjoy them too, Everly.”
“Cool, so maybe we can be pen pals or something. Like once a week.”
That makes him laugh.
“You want to be my pen pal?”
“I mean…I’ve never met someone else who likes the matcha Oreo cronuts like me, while also taking credit for the invention of social media. Seems like someone I should keep talking to, you know?”
“How could you not keep in touch with someone like that?”
“Exactly, you see the dilemma.”
“I do.” He smiles softly. “Don’t worry…Plum, I’ll keep in touch.” And then with that, he’s out the door and closing it behind him.
Why does it feel like he’s not going to keep to his word?
Chapter Twenty-One
HARDY
“So…what do you think?” Maple says, coming up next to me at the party as people mill about, grabbing drinks and food and mingling with Polly and Ken.
