Page 56 of On the Plus Side
“I’ve wanted to tell you this for weeks.” He shook his head. “It was just… the time never seemed to be right.”
“Now seems good.” Though a month ago, the thought of opening this box would have cracked her in two, Everly was ready for whatever he had to say. She wanted an answer. Something solid to stand on so she could move forward.
His fingers traced another pathway across his scalp.
“V.” He took a deep breath. “I nominated you for the show.”
Her head jerked. “You what?” Who knew words could give you whiplash?
“I nominated you forOn the Plus Side.”
Everly gawked at him. This made no sense. Becca had nominated her. She was sure of it. James would have had no idea she was a fan of the show.
His palms rubbed together.
Behind her eyes, she was sketching abstract images, reds and blacks tearing across a white page like blood.
“I knew… you know…” The chafing of his palms quickened. Flint to tinder. So did his words. As if he needed to get them out before they caught fire. “… that you had feelings for me. And you’re such a great girl. I saw an episode of the show one day at the gym and I thought maybe they could give you the confidence you needed to move on to someone else. Someone who—” His eyes dropped to the floor. “—who feels the same.”
Every part of Everly was shaking. She couldn’t organize her thoughts in her head. How could he do this to her? She’d thought they were friends. Yet he’d recruited a TV show to help him reject her.
A whole-ass TV show.
It was so humiliating.
So public.
James nudged her hand with a knuckle. “Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“What you’re feeling.”
Everly stared at him. She was too exhausted, and there was too much alcohol in her system to explain herself. He knew how she’d felt about him and he’d kissed her back tonight. He’d flirted with her at work so many times. Then he’d brought a TV show in to shame her for those feelings. He didn’t get to hear her thoughts. She wouldn’t placate him for whatever guilt was motivating the concern on his face.
Thank god for Jazzy and Stanton. Everly hadn’t realized how much they’d already affected her confidence until this moment. If James had said this to her a month ago, she would have fallen apart. She might have been grateful that he’d gone out of his way to help her. She might have thanked him.
But he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve anything at all.
So Everly walked away.
Harry’s was suddenly too full. Too small. Too hot. It felt like she was being pressed in from all sides. Before she could cry or vomit or something worse, she rushed outside.
She wasn’t ready to go home, so she sat on the low wall of the small garden that framed Harry’s large front windows.
With her palms, she rubbed at her stinging eyes, forcing back the tears still blurring her vision.
When had she become someone everyone else was determined to fix? Her mother and her weight stuff? James’s assumptions about her self-confidence? When did she start needing a TV show and two experts to remind her who she was?
She felt like a boat going in circles with only one oar. Or a muddled painting with no focal point.
She heard footsteps behind her. Dragging a knuckle beneath her eyes to catch the last of her tears, she glanced up to find Logan standing there.
Neither of them was tall—in fact they were practically the same height—but the way the light from the streetlamp fell on him cast a giant shadow over her and the white-and-yellow daisies spotting the garden.
Beneath his beard, his cheeks were bright red, and he was breathing hard, like he’d run half a mile (not ten feet) to reach her. Those blue eyes of his flashed.
“Are you okay?” His voice was somehow rough and soft at the same time.
