Guy Hater (Fisher Brothers 2)

Embarrassed for no good reason on this particular morning, I kicked the pillow away and lay there a minute longer, reveling in all that Dream Frank had done to me and my body.

Then, I got pissed at myself. How could my subconscious continually betray me? I wasn’t sure how I felt about Frank Fisher, and every part of me—my subconscious and all my girly parts—needed to be on board.

But that was the problem. I didn’t know exactly how I felt, how I was supposed to feel, or what the right way to feel even was.

“Are you ever going to call him back?” Britney called out from the kitchen table. “Or even better, let’s go to Sam’s. I miss Ryan’s hot face.”

It was the same question I’d been asking myself on repeat for days.

As I entered the kitchen, she was spooning Greek yogurt into her mouth. “I thought I’d have a clear answer by now,” I muttered as I searched the fridge for something to eat. “But I’m not any closer than I was yesterday. Or the day before that.”

I vacillated between completely understanding Frank and the situation he was in, and not wanting to understand Frank and his situation. My emotional side longed for me to go talk to him, but my logical side kept reminding me that he had lied and misled me easily, and more than once.

Part of me thought that I’d stop thinking about Frank as the days passed, but so far, that hadn’t been the case. He was my last thought at night before I closed my eyes, and the first thought in the morning when I opened them. It was annoying, the hold he had on me, and I sensed it meant more than I was willing to admit. The connection I’d felt with him the first time I looked at him was real and it still existed, even when I tried to push it away. We were bonded by an invisible thread, and you couldn’t cut the ties of something you couldn’t see.

“I think you should talk to him. It’s been days since his last message. He hasn’t called or texted since, right?”

I closed the refrigerator door, holding a Greek yogurt of my own, and my heart sank. “No, he hasn’t.”

Saying those words out loud made me nervous as a realization hit me hard. What if Frank had changed his mind about me? What if he no longer meant the things he’d said in his voice mails? Maybe he and his girlfriend had worked things out since we’d last talked, and were happy again?

My mind fed me scenarios that involved Frank forgetting about me and being perfectly fine with that decision. Why else would he stop calling and disappear completely? He had to be trying to fix his relationship.

“What’s the matter?” Britney tilted her head, studying me, which reminded me how well she actually knew me. She could always tell when I was about to lose it.

“I just . . . what if they’re happy now? What if he realized that I was a mistake? A fantasy of some kind that he’d built up in his mind?”

More fears I never knew I even had bubbled up from deep within me. If I had been an escape for Frank, an oasis in the middle of his relationship desert, then maybe nothing he thought he felt for me had been real. Maybe everything about me, about us, had been something to hold on to, a life raft when his world was falling apart.

“You think his feelings for you weren’t real?” Britney barked out a disbelieving laugh.

I braced myself on the kitchen counter and shrugged. “It’s totally possible. He hasn’t called in days. If he couldn’t live without me, or was so sorry like he seemed to be, then why did he stop calling? Why did he give up when he said he wasn’t going to?”

“Maybe because you never called him back,” she said with an exaggerated eye roll. “A guy can only fight for so long before he has to stop. Frank wouldn’t like it, but if he thought it was the best thing for you, or what you really wanted, he’d do it. He’d walk awa

y. I don’t really know the guy, but I’d bet money that he’s the type who would eventually listen. And your silence told him everything.”

The air ripped out of my lungs, deflating me with a single breath. “Shit.” I tried to pull it together, willed my heart to slow down its rapid beating, and pressed a hand to my stomach. “You’re right.”

“I know.” She grinned before spooning up more yogurt. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when nothing’s changed.”

“You’re seriously the most infuriating woman on the planet,” she said with a groan.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What the hell did I do?”

“You won’t even talk to the guy! I know you like him, Claudia. Even though he has a girlfriend, you still like him. And that’s killing you, tearing you up inside. You’re beating yourself up, but to what end?”

Shaking my head, I grabbed a spoon, then pulled out the chair next to hers and sat down. “What would you do? Seriously, if you were me, what would you do?”

“Talk to him. Have an actual conversation. Let him explain himself, and hear him out. All these things you refuse to do,” she said slowly, enunciating each word as if I were a child.

I hated how confused I still was. Conflicting emotions warred within me, none of them letting up their relentless persistence. The battle between my mind and heart was exhausting.

Maybe love wasn’t always black and white, no matter how hard we tried to force it to be. Maybe connections weren’t always easy and uncomplicated. Maybe love was filled with challenges sometimes, only to see how hard you’d fight to overcome them. I didn’t have the answers, but I sure seemed to have a lot of questions.

“Can I ask you something else?” Britney asked. When I nodded, opening my own yogurt and digging in, she said, “What are you so afraid of?”