My breathing is shallow. Holy shit. She’s right. I was a total prick.
“I’m sorry,” I eke out. “My band was starting to get lots of gigs by that point and—"
“Yes, I know. And I also know you were far more important to me, than I was to you. To you, I was nothing but Logan’s kid sister. But, still, it hurt. So, don’t you dare tell me I’m standing here thinking you’re perfect! That’s truly laughable!”
“You were much more to me than Logan’s kid sister,” I concede. “You’re right. We were friends, and I was a self-absorbed little shit to drop you like a hot potato.”
Amy processes that. “Thank you. I accept your apology. To be fair, I was fourteen and you were eighteen and in a band. Frankly, it would have been weird for you to stay in touch with me. I’m just telling you, whether it was rational or not, I felt abandoned by you—and therefore knew you weren’t even close to perfect. But if I stupidly thought you were perfect then, I certainly would have figured out the truth at Logan’s wedding.”
“What? I was Prince Charming at that wedding!”
“You stood me up after our amazing kiss!”
“Oh.” I grimace. “Yeah, I was drunk.”
“That’s no excuse! You knew that kiss gave me fireflies! You knew that, and you got off on that, the same way you got off on me spying at you playing drums through my bedroom window. So, you whispered all those amazing things into my ear, to keep those fireflies swirling in my belly, to keep your ego stroked, and then you left me sitting in my hotel room, waiting for a text that never came. I sat there like an idiot, waiting for you to show up and do everything you’d promised me, Colin. What kind of asshole leaves a girl hanging like that?”
“I tried to come to you, but you’d texted me the wrong room number!”
“What?”
I nod effusively. “When I got your text, I beelined out of Daxy’s room so fast, I practically tripped over my feet. But then some old lady answered the door and screamed at me for waking her up.”
Amy palms her forehead. “Oh my God.” She gasps. “Did you drop a bottle of booze in the hallway?”
“Yeah! When that old lady chewed me out!”
Amy rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, in the end, though, considering your decision the next morning to ‘let me down easy.’” She snorts. “Trust me, if I didn’t know you were imperfect before then, I would have figured it out.”
I exhale. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Yeah, and I thought you were being too big a coward to do what you truly wanted to do.”
“It’s not being a coward to say, ‘Hey, let’s not get both our families all riled up before we know, for sure, if—”
“But that’s not what you said!” she shrieks. “You said I was ‘off-limits’ to you. Because, apparently, you care more about my brother’s imaginary feelings than your own. But, okay, fine. Let’s pretend I thought you were perfect when I showed up on your doorstep in LA.” She snorts again. “Trust me, I didn’t. But let’s say I did. Well, guess what? I would have figured out pretty damned skippy you’re a deeply flawed motherfucker.”
“What the fuck? I rolled out the red carpet for you! I got your favorite flowers for your dresser!”
“And that was very sweet of you. Thank you. But this is a conversation about how you’re not perfect, and, unfortunately, thoughtful flowers don’t erase the fact that it turns out you can be a moody, broody, closed-off, self-absorbed, manipulative motherfucker who gets off on having a little puppy following him around and fawning over his every smile. A puppy who takes whatever little breadcrumbs he deigns to drop on the floor for her to gobble up, knowing full well she’s dying to be fed the entire freaking loaf.”
Heat floods my cheeks. Shit. Amy’s not taking any prisoners. I’m being decimated here.
“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” Amy challenges. “Are you ready to stop hearing the brutal truth yet?”
“Not if you’ve got more of it to tell me.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Then give it to me, Red. All of it.”
“Gladly.” She paces back and forth in my living room, gearing up. “I don’t love the fact that you’ve got three cars, and that stupid behemoth of a coffee maker that has no business being in a home where only one human bachelor resides. That thing is built for restaurants!”
“That’s what makes it so fucking cool!”
“I wouldn’t give a crap what you spend your money on, if you spent a little more of it on making the world a better place. But you don’t. You were sweet to take care of your mom and give your sisters cars. And I’m thrilled you support the charities you do. But you’ve clearly got more money than you know what to do with, and also an amazing platform and some time on your hands, and the fact that it doesn’t even occur to you to do something really meaningful with all that tells me you’re more selfish and materialistic than my ideal man would be.”