Page 69 of Whispered Promises

“You know, you’re like a walking, talking Care Bear. You make me feel better,” she whispers, her cinnamon-scented breath stroking across my lips.

But it’s her wobbly, growing smile that has the breath leaving my lungs. Her opening up to me like this, trusting me with her words, her emotions, and her thoughts has me fighting the urge to kiss the tear-stained tracks on her cheeks. I desperately want her to know I see her. I see every vulnerable piece of her.

And it is breathtaking.

Instead, I cup her damp cheeks and place a kiss on her pink nose.

“How about a film whilst we eat as many muffins as we can?” I offer, not wanting to drag myself away from her yet.

Her answering moan has my gaze fixing back on her mouth. “Yes, definitely muffins with a film.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

ROSY

Yesterday felt like a whirlwind. Honestly wondering whether I drank in my sleep and that’s why I’m suffering all the signs of a hangover this morning. This level of fuzzy headache with tired eyes, a churning stomach, and a body full of aching muscles doesn’t seem feasible simply from being friend-zoned, then having the mind-altering conversation with Noah afterwards…

But here I am, staring at my work computer, unable to focus on the task I’m trying to do. I have so many thoughts writhing on top of each other, I can’t even decipher what each one is.

It’s just incessant noise.

Last night was so much to take in; there were so many emotions, mostly painful ones. Then, when Noah came over to comfort me, they eased, almost as if he managed to wipe them away. It lured me into a false sense of contentment, because as soon as he left, they started spiralling again. I replayed the conversations, wondering if I missed something or could’ve said something different to change the outcome. Could I somehow have prevented the hurt Max caused?

It’s stupid to think that now. Logically, I know I can’t control his actions or emotions, but lying in bed last night, staring into the dark, it was easier to think I could’ve changed the outcome. In the dark, your imagination can spark and show you what you want it to.

What was I doing again?

Right, email the Quantity Surveyor applicants to Peter. Or was it the Executive Assistant ones?

Shitsticks, I need to get it together. My life is already a complicated mess. I can’t mess things up here too.

Grabbing my phone, I slip it into my pocket and hurry over to the toilets, needing a moment. After I lock myself into a stall, I drop onto the closed seat and unlock my phone. Opening up the messages, I tap on Nate’s one first. He’d sent a couple last night, and now there’s another one too.

GymAlpha

You okay, Rosy?

GymAlpha

Noah just got home, said you watched a film. Glad he was there for you. Goodnight. Sweet dreams.

New message:

GymAlpha

Thinking of you.

My lip pinches as I gnaw uncertainly on it. I want to reply to him. I just don’t know what to say or how to say it. It feels like the whole situation has changed, and I have no idea what the rules are. I don’t think I’m annoyed they had a talk about me—in a way, it’s better I wasn’t there to feel the awkwardness of it—but I’m also left confused about what I’m supposed to do about it.

Pushing aside the biting pinch of guilt, I open the chat with Steph, hoping for some clarity.

Me

I’m freaking out, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.

Me

How can they all just be interested in me and not bothered if I like them all back?