The mattress shifted as Peyton took a seat next to me on the bed. “He really didn’t offer any sort of explanation to why he didn’t give you credit?”
“No. Nothing. He didn’t know what to tell me when I asked him.” I poked my head out of the cover. “And the worst part is that it’s been two fucking days, and I’ve heard nothing from him. How does someone that pretends to care about you do that? What an asshole.”
Peyton sighed. “I was afraid that something like this would happen. I mean, Alfie and Harry had been good friends at one point in their lives. There has to be similarities.”
I was proud of her for not sticking me with an ‘I told you so.’ Those were getting old really fast. It’s not as if anyone had a fucking crystal ball and could honestly see the future. There was a good chance the Alfie was going to turn out to be a great guy, but not now. Any hope of fixing things between us was dwindling day by day as he decided that not calling me was better than calling and explaining himself.
“Yeah, but Alfie had beat the shit out of Harry for being an asshole,” I said, defending him, though I hated myself for doing it. “I watched him tell Harry to never come back to his estate.”
“Guys aren’t like us women. They get over things faster than we do.”
I tugged the blanket back over my head. “Maybe. I just can’t believe it though after everything that has happened.”
“I don’t know, sweetie. I wish I had the answers to make you feel better about the situation.” She rubbed my shoulder and leaned down to press her cheek against my arm. “Stop hiding from me. Pull that down. We should get drinks. Seriously.”
I obliged her and found her eyes sparkling in a familiar expression that I knew meant trouble. I started to shake my head at her as a grin spread across her lips. “No, Peyton. I mean it. We aren’t going out to get drinks. I can’t deal with that sort of thing right now.”
“How about coffee over lunch then?” she suggested, but that mischievous sparkle had yet to leave her eyes. “Oh, come on. Who gets into trouble over coffee?”
“No one does,” I replied, eyeing her with suspicion. “I just have a feeling that you have some other hidden motives behind getting me out of this bed.”
“Perhaps,” Peyton said, grinning. “Come on. Just get up and get in the shower. I refuse to let you wallow in your misery while you’re a guest in my house.”
She tugged on the blankets pointedly when I remained motionless. Letting her tug them away with a sigh, I sat up to glare at her. “Okay, fine. Just no funny business, Peyton. I’m serious. Just coffee.”
“Nothing else,” Peyton vowed by holding up a few fingers as if that meant a damn thing to me. “Now, get it up and put on something that makes you feel cute. The world is a better place to play when you feel like a million dollars.”
“Get out, and I’ll get up.” I turned my back to her and waited until I heard the door click shut. I resisted the urge to check my phone, knowing good and damn well that Alfie hadn’t called. I had the thing on an outside setting so that I could hear it ring or buzz from a mile away.
“Stop thinking about him.” I got up and huffed, knowing that there was no way in hell I was going to get him out of my mind for a while. I’d fallen in love with Harry’s best friend, and karma was kicking me in the crotch. Hell, maybe I deserved it. It sure as fuck felt like it.
“Stop thinking, and let’s go. I’m pulling muffins out of the oven. Come get yours while it’s hot. You know you like it that way,” Peyton mumbled through the crack of the door.
“So, you want me in the shower or in the kitchen?”
“I’ll take you any way I can get you, baby.” She laughed after using a deep, creepy male voice. I couldn’t help but laugh too.
“Forget the shower. I’ll be at the table in the minute.” I threw on a sundress and some sandals, pulled my hair into a high ponytail, and grabbed my sunglasses for protection against anyone seeing my red eyes. “I sure as hell hope that it’s sunny today.”
*
“So? Are you feeling at least a little bit better?” Peyton handed me a chocolate from her side of the table. We’d shared a sandwich and soup at my favorite bistro and were getting ready to find something else to do. I voted on going home to sleep for the next week, but she wasn’t putting up with any of my shit.
“Actually, yeah. Thank you for lunch. That was really good.” I took the chocolate and popped it in my mouth as I let my eyes scan the bistro. It seemed like everyone was with someone. It had to be my imagination, or someone upstairs was playing a very cruel joke on me. “What’s next? Nap?”
“Nope.” Peyton stood and lifted her thin arms toward the air before bending over to the right and then the left. She yawned, and I pointed at her.
“Ha! You are tired. Come on; it’s late afternoon. Let’s go back to your place and take a nap. We’ll get up, make some dinner together and watch sappy chick flick movies.”
“I would, but I know you…you’ll sleep from now through the rest of the night, and if by some off chance I do drag your ass out of bed, you’ll cry a river during the movies. I’m not interested in watching you suffer. I already want to kill Harry and slaughter Alfie. Let’s not send me spiraling off the deep end, hm?” She gave me a crazed look.
I stood and laughed before pulling her into a hug. “Thanks for being my best friend. Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m usually right, but there’s no telling you that.” She moved toward the front door. “Let’s go walk around the mall until we get sick of it and then grab a drink at that new bar beside the house.”
“No bars. No drinks. Liquor isn’t going to help me, seriously. It’s going to force me into a deep depression that isn’t fair to you or me.” I walked behind her and pushed the door open further. “I honestly just wish I could stop thinking about him. He was perfect for me, and I thought that we were going to be together. It just seems so insanely fucked up that we’re not. Like everything I’d kinda constructed in my head over the last few weeks is a lie. It’s a bunch of bullshit nothingness.”
“That’s how love is sometimes though, right? You expect it to go one way, and it does a sharp left turn an