Page 54 of The Friend Zone

She whirled on me, eyes flying wide. “What?! ”

“Yeah.” I dropped onto the sofa, clutching my dog. “Tyler and I broke up. I slept with Josh. It was fucking incredible. His penis is glorious. I’m dick whipped and in love with him, and I don’t know what to do. I think I fucked up.”

She looked absolutely horrified. The color drained right from her face. She didn’t know what to do with “dick whipped,” I think. She’d never had a one-night stand or even slept with someone who wasn’t her boyfriend.

I gave her a minute. I knew she’d catch up.

Once she rallied, she sat down next to me. “And you think you fucked up—why?”

I put my face into my hands. “I like him so much. So much, Sloan. And he’s all sweet and wants to hang out with me. He asked me if we could be exclusive. I told him no, that it’s purely a sex thing for me, which it’s totally not. But what else can it be?”

I looked at her, and I could feel the desperation practically seeping from my pores. “I mean, if he actually likes me, I have to shut this thing down. We can’t be together. He won’t be with someone who can’t give him kids. I’d rather die than tell him I’m about to have my uterus taken out. And I’m not in the business of leading men on, right? So I should end it, shouldn’t I? Right?”

She stared at me like I’d gone mad. “God, I’ve never seen you like this,” she breathed.

Maybe I had gone a little crazy. This was not my normal MO. Guys didn’t get me worked up. Ever. Sloan was in virgin territory with me on this.

“You know what he did the other day?” I went on. “I went to FedEx to drop off some boxes. And when I came back, he was in the kitchen with Stuntman. I guess he knocked over a soda and Stuntman walked through it, so he needed a bath. So Josh washed him, and I come into the kitchen and he’s standing there, no shirt, with Stuntman wrapped in a towel, and he’s cuddling my wet dog. I swear to fucking God, Sloan, I’ve never seen anything sexier in my entire life. The man is literally perfect. How is it possible that I’ve managed to find the perfect man and I can’t have him?”

She rubbed my back, looking at a loss for what to do.

I put my forehead into my hand. “I hate my uterus so much. Sex makes me bleed. I’ve been spotting for two days. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to tell him to ignore my swollen stomach. It was fucking humiliating.”

She looked sympathetic. “Well, what did he say?”

I scoffed. “Nothing. He didn’t give a shit. The dude was about to get laid. He probably wouldn’t even have noticed it, but I felt like I had to explain it anyway in case he did, and found himself wondering if he was boning a pregnant chick.”

The beginnings of tears tickled the back of my throat. I got up and went to the bathroom for a tissue. I blew my nose and flushed it down the toilet, and the toilet handle came off in my hand. I came out and held it up. Sloan rolled her eyes and got off the sofa.

Her house was a fixer-upper. Brandon was doing the repairs. He did a good job, but the place broke as fast as he could fix it.

She took the handle from me, and we stood there in the hallway, flanked by framed photos on the walls, having a silent exchange. We could practically read each other’s minds. She hated this was happening to me. She wished she could take it away, make it better. But she couldn’t, and she didn’t know how to even start.

“So what are you going to do about him?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “You know what’s so messed up?” My eyes started to sting. “He fits. Like, the first time I met you and we just clicked, you know? That’s Josh. He clicks. And I was okay with this until him. I was at peace with my decision. And now…”

The unfamiliar lump that accompanied tears swelled in my throat. That tightness that I so rarely experienced because I was seldom moved to cry.

“The universe is laughing at me, Sloan. As soon as I think this can’t get worse, it’s like, ‘Hold my beer.’ At every turn the kid thing keeps coming up, just in case I forget how much it matters to him. These constant little reminders that I don’t have what he needs.”

My mind went to Josh holding Stuntman in the towel. Then I thought of him holding a baby there instead. But it wouldn’t ever be mine. That wouldn’t be my husband giving our baby a bath in the kitchen sink. He’d only get that moment with someone else.

That did it. The sobbing burst out of me. Sloan had me in her arms in an instant.

I wasn’t an emotional person. In the course of our friendship, Sloan had only seen me cry once after a cramp-induced trip to the ER, and that was more from pain and frustration than despondency. This was a violent shift in our dynamic, the moment when Dad breaks down and wide-eyed Mom has to comfort him. Sloan’s maternal instincts kicked into crisis mode, and she clutched me to her, shushing me and whispering in my ear, the way my own mom would never do.

I’d borne the decision for this hysterectomy with stoic practicality. But I couldn’t do that with Josh. I just couldn’t. There was absolutely nothing practical about the way that man made me feel. I let myself just fucking cry. And it made me feel out of control and hopeless.

Someone knocked on the wall. We turned to the sound to see Brandon poking his head around the door into the hallway.

“Oh. Uh, sorry to interrupt. Josh is here. Is it cool if he stays for dinner?”

Josh came up behind Brandon, holding Stuntman. My dog was licking his cheek. “Hey, Sloan. Kristen.” His smile fell the second he saw my face.

I swiped at my tears, fled to the bathroom, and closed the door.

SEVENTEEN