“That might be more than I need to know about my boss—”
“I lost my head to the orgasms and told him I love him.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Oh fuck is right,” I reply. “You want to know why?”
“No, but I’m going to ask anyway, because it feels like it’s important here,” he says. “So why do you think it’s an ‘oh fuck’ moment?”
“I know it’s an ‘oh fuck’ moment, because when I accidentally told King that I love him, he told me I made a mess of things and he’d deal with it when he gets back, but he left to clear his head, and I have no intention of being here when he does.”
“Maybe that’s not so bad,” he suggests. “If he was going to scrape you off, don’t you think he’d have done it by now?”
“That is kind of a harsh turn of phrase for the moment, don’t you think?” I snap.
“It’s not wrong either though, is it?” he snaps right back.
“It is, Eric,” I tell him. “You know it is. I have to go.”
“I’ll give you that it’s bad, but I’ll take you out. You don’t need to go with that jackass,” he says, waving his hand in the direction of the door.
“That jackass is my childhood friend,” I remind him gently.
“He also wants you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen,” Eric reminds me.
“Maybe that’s not so bad,” I repeat his earlier words.
“Addie—”
“As long as I don’t fall in love, I’ll be fine.”
“Letmetake you out,” he begs.
“I adore you, Eric. I need you to know that,” I say gently. “You have become so dear to me. I’ve never had a friend like you, and I hope you will still be my friend after today. But right now, I need to not be around anyone or anything that makes me think of King.”
“And I will always remind you of him,” he prompts sadly.
“I think you and I both know that in life, in games of the heart, someone is going to have to be the loser,” I reply. “That loser is me.”
“Addie—”
“But it’s not you, never you,” I tell him. “If I don’t see you again, just know I think you should go get your girl. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“Honey, please—”
“I have to go.”
And then I grab my bag and race out the door, leaving Eric scared shitless and definitely pissed—at King.
“Ready?” Bobby asks me.
“Ready as I’ll ever be!”
He leads me down the hall to the elevator and pushes the button. The heavy doors open with a ding, and he pushes the button for the parking garage. We don’t talk as we ride down to where he has a car or we can grab a taxi, but then again, what would we say? We’ve kind of let this competition make a mess of our friendship. I’ve kind of let this competition make a mess out of everything in my life. But that ends today.
The doors open again with a ding, and he leads me out to the parking garage. This isn’t the main parking garage but a quieter floor above the main hustle and bustle of Las Vegas Boulevard. He beeps the locks on a generic rental car, which is so unlike him. Bobby usually goes for big flash when choosing a car, and if ever there was a place where you could rent a high-end sports car like you could a minivan, it’s Las Vegas.
I climb in the passenger seat and tuck my bag at my feet before buckling my seat belt. Bobby climbs in the driver seat, and we peel out. He’s always been kind of a reckless driver.
