Listen to Me (Fusion 1)

I love you too. This only makes the tears come harder.

“No, it’s not you,” I lie. “I just think it’s best if I stay home. You guys can handle the front of the house for one night.”

“Of course we can,” Kat assures me. “I’ll call in an extra bartender so I can bounce back and forth. It won’t be a problem at all.”

“Thank you.”

“Addie? You’d tell me if you’re upset because of me, right? Because I don’t ever want to hurt your feelings.”

“Of course.” Probably not. “I’m just gonna take some time for myself.”

“Okay. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

I hang up and sigh deeply. First things first. I need a shower, then I’m going to order pizza and break into the emergency tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream I have in the back of the freezer and settle in to watch movies.

Alone.

SO MUCH FOR being alone.

When I got out of the shower, I had four missed calls. Kat clearly can’t keep her trap shut.

Since then, they all, and by all I mean all, including Cici, have been texting me, asking me if I’m okay. What’s wrong. Do I need anything.

They’re driving me crazy, and making me love them even more.

It’s weird.

I’ve eaten four slices of New York–style pizza and am thinking about firing up the oven and baking some of the ready-to-bake chocolate chip cookies I have in the fridge when the doorbell rings.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

I pause my movie and stomp across the condo. “Seriously, you didn’t have to come! You bitches need to get a life and stop worrying about me.”

I yank the door open and stop short when I’m staring at a very broad, very muscular T-shirt-covered chest. My eyes travel up to Jake’s face and narrow as a slow, sexy smile spreads over his face.

God, that smile freaking kills me. All he has to do is smile and I’m a pile of mushy goo.

Except, not today.

“Why are you here?”

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he leans his shoulder against the doorjamb. His eyes lower to my chest and his smile widens.

I glance down and sigh at the sight of tomato sauce on my white tank top, and then realize that I’m only wearing the tank and some red panties.

Because I’m being lazy.

Alone.

I roll my eyes and turn away, walking back into my living room. My blankie is in a wad in the middle of the couch, the pizza box on the ottoman, open, with three empty Diet Coke cans sitting next to the uneaten portion of the pizza.

Which I fully intend to eat before the night is out.

“Look, Jake, I’m not really fit for company tonight.”

“It looks like you’re having quite the party,” he comments as he follows me inside. He’s carrying a grocery bag. “I brought ice cream and what I’ve been told is your favorite wine.”

God, I love Kat.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he agrees as he saunters all sexy-like into my kitchen and stows the ice cream in the freezer, then finds a wineglass and pours me some wine. “But I don’t like the thought of you being here, unhappy, alone.”

“I’m not unhappy. I’m moody.”

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at Jake. God, I look horrific. Can’t a girl have a pity party for one in peace?

“I won’t bother you.” His eyes have sobered, and he’s staring at me now, waiting for me to kick him the hell out.

Which I’m sure I should do. Right now. I have a movie to watch, wine to drink, and pizza to eat.

But instead I sit on the couch and gesture for him to sit on the opposite side.

“I’m watching a girl movie,” I inform him. “And I’m not changing it.”

“Good plan.”

“And I’m eating lots of food, and I’ll probably belch. I’m not very pretty tonight.”

“You’re always gorgeous, and none of that offends me.” His lips twitch as he sits, not touching me. His hands are clenching in and out of fists, and I can tell he wants to pull me to him, but he’s respecting my need for some space.

So, I resume the movie, offer him a slice of pizza, and we sit in silence as we watch The Fault in Our Stars. This movie always makes me cry. Always.

Especially just before the very end. God, it’s a shot to the heart.

But Jake pulls my feet into his lap and just rubs them firmly. He doesn’t pat my leg and say, “It’s only a movie.”

He simply stays with me.

When the movie ends, I flip off the TV, wipe my eyes, and turn to look at Jake, who’s still rubbing my feet.

“You’re good at the girl’s-night-in thing.”

“My best friend since I was fifteen years old is a girl,” he replies with a smile. “I’ve had a little practice.”

I return his smile, finally feeling somewhat better. I’m glad he has Christina. I’m glad that she’s been there for him, through everything.

True friends are hard to find.

“She seems nice.” I lean my head against the back of the couch and watch his strong hands as they move up and down my legs.

“She’s awesome,” he replies. “And speaking of her, she wanted me to ask you if you’d like to come for dinner at her house sometime in the next week. I’m supposed to find out what night works best for you.”

“Isn’t it a bit early to meet the family?” I ask sarcastically, and frantically try to come up with a reason that I shouldn’t go. This makes things . . . serious.