No Bad Days (Fisher Brothers 1)

“Wave hi to the camera, Nick,” Ryan said with a laugh, and I flipped him off before spinning around, turning my back to the camera.

“Neither of you are any fun,” he grumbled. “I need to finish cleaning up the bar. We good here?”

I spun back around to face him. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Ryan headed back behind the bar as I flipped and turned the poker chip in my pocket, his words and my thoughts warring in my head.

Had Jess really wanted me to show up, even though she’d told me not to? Was Ryan right? I liked to think that I knew Jess’s heart far better than my brother did. There was no way she hadn’t meant what she said to me last night. The tone of her voice was way too serious, not playing around at all. And it wasn’t like she had called me today either. She knew I wasn’t coming, and she didn’t want me to.

I should have never called. Jess probably never wanted to hear from me again, and I didn’t blame her.

I’d never want to hear from me again either.

Getting over Him

Jess

I’d half expected time to slow to a crawl, for it to feel like it was barely moving at all after Nick’s call that night. But it hadn’t. If anything, time felt like it moved at warp speed, the days and weeks passing by in quick succession until they became months. I became more involved at the television station at school, picking up shifts when people were sick, and volunteered to work at all the fundraisers.

I loved how busy and productive my life had become, leaving me little time to think of Nick, even though he still lurked somewhere in the back of my mind. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever not be a part of me, even if only a small part. I’d noticed that when I gave his memory an inch, it took a mile, but thankfully even that seemed to be fading.

I’d even agreed to go on a date with a guy from the TV station who I thought was cute, but when I found there was less than zero chemistry between us, I didn’t encourage him further. Honestly, I was grateful that it was the lack of chemistry and not the abundance of Nick Fisher on the brain that had stopped me from seeing him again. At this rate, Nick would be a thing of the past in no time.

My courses were a breeze. I wasn’t sure if it was because the subjects came naturally to me or because I was so intrigued and invested in them, but I was thankful I wasn’t on the dean’s shit list at this school the way I had been down at State. One less thing to worry about was a good thing in my book.

Rachel came up twice to visit, and both times, she insisted we go to frat parties. When she complained the entire time about how much they sucked, I wanted to yell at her for being rude, but couldn’t find the willpower. Comparing these parties to those Nick’s fraternity used to throw was a joke. There was no comparison. It was sad, really. I mean, how hard was it to throw a good party for a bunch of underage, sex-crazed college students?

Apparently, Rachel and I were “frat party elitists,” as Brooke had dubbed us tonight after we decided to call it quits well before midnight and left the party. She wasn’t wrong. Nick’s parties had ruined us for all others.

Rachel and I walked home, our arms wrapped around our midsections. Brooke had stayed at the party to spend time with Kenny, who was surprisingly in the very fraternity whose party we were attending. I never would have pegged him as the frat-boy type.

“It’s freezing up here,” Rachel complained as she sped up her pace.

“Preaching to the choir.” I still wasn’t used to the weather change myself, and doubted I would ever get used to it. I pulled out my keys and raced to the front door, thankful I lived so close to campus.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Rachel said as soon as the door closed, and I laughed and pointed her in the direction of the kitchen.

“Make whatever you want.”

She searched the cupboards and the fridge before settling on a bag of microwave popcorn. I’d already started getting ready for bed by the time Rachel joined me in the bathroom, the two of us sharing one sink as we washed our faces. Even when we lived together, we didn’t have to share a bathroom unless we wanted to, so this was a little more togetherness than we were used to.

The microwave beeped, and Rachel rushed out to grab the popcorn. “Meet you in your room.”

Once I’d dried my face and put on moisturizer, I hopped on top of my bed and joined Rachel, who’d already claimed a spot and turned on the TV, then snagged a fistful of popcorn.

“You never really told me about your date,” she mumbled through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Yes, I did,” I argued, remembering the text messages I sent her immediately following.

“You just said there was no chemistry.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What more did you need to know? There literally couldn’t have been less chemistry than if I was on a date with an alien.”

She shrugged, giving me a sidelong look. “So it had nothing to do with Nick?”

I choked out a laugh. Nick and I were clearly over. We had been for weeks, if not months. Somewhere between him never showing up that day or calling me to apologize, I’d accepted that fact and was finally ready to move on.

“That’s what you’ve thought this whole time?”