Ispent twenty more minutes chatting with Ricky but my head wasn’t into it. In fact, I couldn’t remember a fucking word I said to him; I could have told him we were using nursery rhymes in the next film for all I knew.
Christ. I slammed my hand down on the desk, startling Harriette, who lifted her head off the dog bed and stared at me like the asshole I was. I was so mad that Charli had described me as nice, I’d subconsciously set out to prove her wrong. Or some shit like that.
I was fucking sick of being the nice guy when the arrogant pricks got all the great girls. I didn’t want to settle for the quirky girls anymore, the ones who read paranormal fiction and loved Luke Skywalker. I wanted someone different from me, not the female version of myself. My head and heart—and my dick—craved something more, something different.
Charli, to be exact.
I could have sworn I saw a tear drop from her beautiful blue-green eyes, a tiny droplet so uncharacteristic of her hard shell. The sight of it filled my heart with so much regret, it nearly split it in half.
“Fuck!” I brought my hand to the desk a second time and toppled a stack of discs, mesmerized a second by their spinning pattern on the hardwood floor.
Frustrated, I stood up and threw open my studio door. “Come on, Harri.”
I shoved my feet into an old pair of running shoes and snatched Harriette’s leash from the hook. We took another long walk through town and back again, stopping outside the coffee shop for water. Most people walked their dogs to exhaust them—I walked to exhaust myself.
And I couldn’t believe it, but after one week of walking, it was taking longer and longer to exhaust my fat ass. I needed to e-mail Charli like I said I would, but I couldn’t bring myself to hide behind my computer with kind words when I’d gone all asshole over FaceTime.
By the time I had my head on straight, I’d done two huge loops with Harriette and was drenched in sweat.
When we got back home, I dragged myself into the shower, dried off, threw on sweats, and poured myself a bowl of cereal. Only half of what I poured interested me, and I ended up spilling the rest down the disposal and snatching my laptop.
FROM:[emailprotected]
TO:[emailprotected]
SUBJECT: Harriette is disappointed in me
Charli –
Even my dog is hiding in shame from me. My actions today were not me. Asshole is too nice.
*Cue head bang into desk.*
And to think Ricky said you called me nice.
I would never call you a bitch. Yeah, I chose that song after our flight, but it wasn’t directed at you. I don’t know what I was thinking. Life’s a bitch, or some shit they print on a T-shirt.
Forgive me?
I really will be in NYC next week, staying in Columbus Circle. I have to go to dinner with the label on Tuesday, but was hoping you could join me for dinner on Wednesday. A makeup dinner? Even sushi? Anywhere you want.
Okay, I’m rambling ...
—Lay
I attached a picture of Harriette hiding her snout behind her paws and hitSEND.
It had to mean something—me being seated in 2D on my way to Chicago and then again as I headed to New York. I slid into the leather seat and asked for a bottle of water rather than a drink; it was a Tuesday and I had to go straight to a meeting and dinner.
“Thanks,” I mumbled to the attendant and then squinted at her. I must have had something in my eye because I was pretty sure she winked at me.
At me?
“Have a good flight, and let me know whatever you need,” she said, and winked again. Maybe she had something in her eye.
Scrap 2D being lucky. It was making me crazy.
And then it got worse when a curvy redhead in a Princess Leia tee and hip-hugging jeans squeezed in next to me.
