Page 28 of This I Promise You
“I’ll walk!” he yells, but I get up and race him to the door.
“Come on. At least have breakfast first. I can make you that omelet you wanted so badly last night before you went comatose.”
There is no fucking way that this shithead standing in front of me can look this good wearing my clothes, but he does. Even hungover as fuck.
He really should eat something.
Shit. I can’t stop looking at him. Like, reallylooking.
Last night I thought it was all in my head. That maybe I was second-hand drunk from the party. That I most certainly could not have thought he was cute. Like, actually cute. But…he is. I’ve been blind this whole time. Holy shit, I’ve been such an asshole. I guess I didn’t want to see it. I guess I couldn’t. That's the funny thing about trauma, isn’t it? It can alter your reality.
He looks so confused and ready to bolt. He’s like a scared baby deer. It’s kinda cute.
Shit.
What the hell would I even do? Huh? Like, obviously he’s into me. Drunk people are the most honest people in the world. He was honest with me. Maybe he just wants to fuck, maybe he wants more? I wouldn’t know what to do with either. I don’t hook up for…reasons. And I certainly don’t date. Not after my one and only ex cheated on me freshman year of college. So no. I can’t do this.
We’re just standing here, staring at each other and I can’t read his face, but itiscute to watch him squirm.
“Huxley?” His eyes shift from me to Huxley coming out of her bedroom.
I turn around and suddenly everything clicks. I look at her the way Miranda Priestly looks at Andrea inThe Devil Wears Pradawhen she goes up the stairs in her townhouse.
“Oof. Never mind. Y’all have fun.” And then she turns right back around and shuts her bedroom door.
What did she do?
My anger flares something fierce.
Easton must see it on my face because he turns toward the door and pulls it open. “Just— I’ve got to go. Bye.”
He slips out and I don’t stop him this time. I have someone else I need to fucking deal with right now.
Huxley reemerges from her room and oh so very casually says, “Oh hey, Paul.”
“No you don’t! Don’t ‘Oh hey, Paul’ me. What the hell did you do? How did Easton get my number? And where were you last night? You just got drunk and left himalone? Anything could have happened to him! What the hell, Huxley?”
Huxley puts her nose in the air and marches toward the kitchen to start her morning coffee routine. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. And I didn’t just ‘get drunk and leave’, I was puking my guts out, then I couldn’t find him so I Ubered home.”
“The fuck you don’t know what I’m talking about.” I follow her. “What are you playing at here, Huxley? What the shit do you think is going to happen?”
“Okayfine! I gave him your number by pretending I got a new one. But I honestly didn’t think he’d call youlast night. I only meant for him to call you and invite you for a V-Day lunch or something. I don’t know.”
“You had no right.” I say through gritted teeth. My jaw is so tight I can taste blood.
“Wait, did you sleep on the couch?” she asks.
“You know I did,” I answer.
“Interesting,” she comments. “I need coffee.”
“Huxley!” I yell.
“Paul!” She dramatically throws her hands around likeI’mthe crazy one and stops making her coffee. “He clearly likes you. And you like him. You may not have known it, but I saw you two playing pool. I hear the way you talk about him. And by the way you were watching him just now, I’d say you finally pulled your head out of your ass andnoticedhim. All thanks to me. You’re welcome.”
“Huxley. I don’t want this. I can’t. We can never be a thing.”
“And why not? If I’ve learned anything from all the enemies-to-lovers books I’ve read, the best,most epiclove stories—or tragedies—all start out with a hate-hate relationship. And now that’s changed. You need this and I think he needs this too. Y’all would actually be so perfect together. So stopdeflectinglike you always do and go after that man so y’all can fall in love and get married and adopt cute little babies. Again I say, you’re welcome.” She’s in the kitchen starting a pot of coffee all nonchalant like none of this is fucked up.
