She gave him a wan smile. “Everything’s changing. And I feel … weird.” She shook her head and looked out of the window. “Ignore me. I’m feeling all sorts of stupid things. Selfish things. Go and work for a bit longer. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in an hour and we can play raid-the-fridge.” She’d given him an opening to leave, but instead of walking through the door he sat down next to her.
“Hey, I wrote the manual on selfish and I can tell you, you don’t feature in it. And feelings are never stupid, they’re feelings.” Gently he removed the glass from her hand. “I hate seeing you upset. I may not be as good a listener as Brittany or Emily, but I can try. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Our relationship is about sex. You’re breaking your own rules.”
It was true, but still he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Instead he put his arm round her. “Talk to me.”
She turned and pressed her face in his chest. “Shit. Look at me. Crazy person. Push me away. Kick my butt. Whatever you do don’t be kind to me. If you’re kind, I’ll cry and I’ll drown you in emotion so fast you won’t have time to call the emergency services.”
He smiled. “I’m a good swimmer. I can handle deep water.” He lifted his hand and stroked her hair. “What’s changing, sweetheart?”
He felt her tense and then she eased back and stared miserably at the middle of his chest.
“Our friendship. It’s been the three of us for so long. The three of us against the world.”
“The three musketeers.”
“At college we used to joke that we were like a three-legged chair. If one of us left, the others would crash to the ground. We were always looking out for each other.”
“As far as I can see you’re still looking out for each other.”
“But Em has Ryan and Brittany has Zach. It’s different. And it’s not that I’m not pleased for them, because I am, but if I’m totally, truly honest I’m a little bit sorry for me. I miss talking to them.” Her voice sounded clogged and he eased her back into his arms.
“Why can’t you talk to them?”
“Because they have their heads full of other things and they don’t need to hear me bleating.”
“If they knew you were upset—”
“Who said I was upset?” She sniffed. “I’m not upset.”
“What do you want to talk to them about?” He rubbed her arms gently and felt her still.
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, Sky. Something must have brought this on. Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”
“No.” Her voice was muffled. “I can’t. It’s too—personal.”
“Sweetheart, we are way past personal. After everything we’ve shared over the past few weeks I would have thought you could tell me anything.” Amused, he tried to ease her away from him but she had her fingers bunched in the front of his shirt.
“Not this.”
He frowned, wondering what “this” was.
“Want me to get them on the phone? Invite them for supper?”
“No.” She pulled away and sniffed. “But thank you for offering. I’m being stupid. I know you can’t freeze time. I know life has to change and I’m pleased for them, really I am, but—”
“Change is always unsettling.”
“Not to you.” Her indrawn breath was unsteady. “You’re the sort of person who throws a saddle on change and rides it into the sunset yelling ‘yee-haw.’”
“For me, the fear is being in one place. And I’ve never yelled ‘yee-haw’ in my life.”
“You should add it to your bucket list.” She slid off the window seat and stood up. “Don’t say anything to them. I don’t want them to know. I need to work this through by myself. It’s inevitable that our friendship is going to change, and we all have to find our way through that. It’s funny, because through my adult life we’ve always been there for each other. When my parents do something irritating, I call Em or Brit. When I’m dumped by a boy, I call them.”
“A boy dumped you? Tell me his name and I’ll steal his lunch money.”