His sweet words crack through my chest. They make me realize how maybe a part of me needs to unthaw too. Let Andrew in a little. A friend to help make the days less lonely, no matter that I can’t fill other voids with him.
“So, like…secret friends?”
“Sure,” he says, a single shoulder held up in agreement. “Secret friends.”
“Yeah,” I finally say. “Okay.”
His face lights up. “Yeah?”
I nod. “A friend isn’t bad to have. And…like you said, you like hanging out with me. And maybe I like it too.”
“Friends.” He juts his right hand in front of him.
I accept his peace offering. “Friends.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Andrew
The shrill screamsof children chasing each other feel like nails on a chalkboard. I try to dull it by sticking my finger in my ear when I catch a very apologetic mother getting multiple judgy glances from around her, which is when I transition my improvised earmuff into a feigned itch. It’s chaotic and loud and overwhelming inside the LEGO® Store in La Jolla. I’ve only been inside for three minutes, but I’m on a mission. One that involves a new friend of mine.
When I don’t find what I’m looking for, I find the nearest employee with a yellow apron and a LEGO badge, a little cowboy figurine perched above the name Patrick in all caps and block letters.
“Excuse me,” I say, calling for his attention. I point my phone screen at him and ask, “I didn’t see this set out here. Do you know if you have any in the back?”
He squints at my phone and says, “Sure, let me check.”
I nod, standing off to the side where there’s a display of a Mona Lisa LEGO behind a glass case. Another loud squeal, this one less sulky, buzzes past me followed by the urgent pitter-patter of light-up sneakers.
This isn’t how I expected to be spending my Saturday morning. I figured I’d have a lazy start, enjoy a protein shake followed by a few hours at the gym. Or a trip to Ikea to replace my broken nightstand. But the unexpected turn the day is leading me through has a giddy trill rolling through my body.
My initial plan was to stay away from Grace. I had every intention of respecting her wishes. To maintain a more acquaintance-style friendship, even after our tryst. But then she walked into my party and stripped down to her bikini, as if she was asking for an invitation, and all bets were off. I tried to stay away from her. Even when I watched her walk into the house and followed her, knowing everyone would be distracted outside with the karaoke machine, all I was going to do was say a quick and simple hello. Greet a friend.
I felt like I was boring daggers into her body. Into the valley between her shoulders and the bumpy ridges of her spine. At the small mole under her collarbone, the exact spot I nipped at her skin, most likely leaving a mark. Up until the party, I was ready to erase her from my mind. Use distance as a method to move on. Out of sight, out of mind. Except she appeared right in my sight. All bare skin and flustered hands and blushed cheeks.
That’s when I threw out the friend barter. A covert tit for tat she wasn’t even aware of. But it seems I haven’t quite discovered the lengths I’d go to spend a minute more time with her. The thing is, while I’m alarmingly attracted to her, I’ll take this friend situation if that’s all I’ll get. Things seem to shift when I’m around her. My temples relax and my jaw loosens, and I actually have a good time. When I talk to her, I feel so engrossed, and it’s like she actually listens when I talk. She doesn’t just nod her head along, throwing out an occasional “yeah” or “mmh-hmm.” I forget about Mr. Sheridan and corporate ladders and gopher duties. Even the sudden—and unsolicited—realization of my commitment issues slip my mind. She creates this amnesiac.An escape bubble where all the bad and terrible sit outside and I can simply enjoy her company.
So, if a friendship is all she’s going to give me, I’m going to friendship the fuck out of her.
“Here you go,” Cowboy Patrick says, extending the coveted set in my direction. “You’re in luck. It was the last one.”
I grin at him. “Thanks.”
“Who is it?”
I clear my throat. All the confidence I had parking my car in a guest spot in Grace’s garage and while walking up to her condo has dissolved, leaving me this helpless, nervous mess. “It’s Andrew.”
The locks click from the other side, and when the door swings open, Grace’s wary face greets me. She’s wearing my shirt again, but instead of a pair of soft pajama pants, she’s wearing leggings. While she doesn’t necessarily look like she’s been lying in bed all day, she doesn’t seem to have any plans to step outside today.
“Hi,” I offer when she doesn’t greet me with anything more than a skeptical look.
“What are you doing here?”
I ignore the flatness of her tone and pull the LEGO set from behind my back. Though I don’t do a big fanfare of a cheesy “ta-da,” my grin does enough to pull a small smile from her.
She takes the set in her hands, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth as she taps her index finger along the side of the shiny cardboard box. “LEGOs?”
“Not just any LEGO,” I correct, the both of us peering down at the picture on the box. “But roses.”
