Page 82 of Heartsick & Lipsticks
SKYE
The sun was settingas I sat on the bed folding clothes. I was trying to keep myself busy before Nick came home. Callie and Bella left for camp this morning and I wasn’t on shift tonight. Lola and Naomi had ordered a pizza after watchingMystic Pizzathis afternoon. They’d both said they weren’t hungry for dinner. So, it would just be me and Nick. I’d messaged him earlier and asked what he’d like me to make, but I hadn’t heard back.
We hadn’t really talked for a few days. The last conversation we’d had was in the kitchen on Monday night when I’d put my foot in my mouth. The night after that, he’d taken everyone out for dinner. Then Wednesday he had a call right after dinner. And last night, he’d been helping Bella get ready to leave for camp this morning.
I was feeling a whole lot of anxious, and a little excited about the prospect of a dinner with just the two of us. I tried not to let my mind wander to things like him reaching across the table and kissing me senseless. Or him putting music on and asking me to slow dance. Or him confessing his undying love for me.
I’d never been a romantic in my real life. In books and movies, absolutely. Bring on the cheesiest of all romance cheese. But in reality, I had never really given it much thought. Now, it was like my brain was constantly playing a rom-com starring Nick and myself. I’d even imagined him taking me down to the beach and writing I love you in the sand.
When my phone rang, I jumped knocking over the pile of shirts I’d just folded. Reaching across the bed, I grabbed the phone off the nightstand and saw it was Ri FaceTiming and not Nick calling me back. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed. Which was shitty because I missed Ri. It felt like forever since I’d talked to her. Right after I moved in here, she started seeing a new guy, and we’d only touched base over text.
“Hello beautiful!” she exclaimed as her face populated on the screen.
I set the phone propped up on the nightstand and kept folding. “Hey, gorgeous! How are you? How’s things with Tyler?”
Ri’s new love interest was an MMA fighter she’d met in Las Vegas the night after I moved in here.
“That’s over.”
I figured that’s why she was calling but didn’t want to make assumptions.
“How’sKurt?” she asked in a sing-song way.
“Good, I think. I haven’t seen him around as much since he’s not driving me anymore.”
“Right, well, next time you see him, say hi for me.”
“I will.”
“So how has it been playing house with one of San Francisco’s most eligible bachelors?”
Amazing. Confusing. Depressing.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” she repeated.
“Yeah, fine.”
“Have you two—?"
“No.” I cut her off.
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“I know what you were going to ask, the answer is no.”
“I was just going to ask if you two have been flirting?”
“That’s not what you were going to ask, and no, we haven’t.” There wasn’t even a hint that anything had happened between us. With the sole exception of the other night in the kitchen when he’d asked me about dating guys from the app, Nick had been distant and our conversation was very impersonal. Which was exactly what I’d said I wanted. But the reality of being friend-zoned was a lot harder to take than I would have thought.
“So there’s been no stolen kisses in the butler’s pantry?”
“The butler’s pantry?” That was so specific.
“Don’t all rich people have a butler’s pantry?” she asked.
“You’re rich. Do you have a butler’s pantry?”
