“I assumed you would’ve called me if you ended up grinding on thedance floor with a hot-as-fuck hockey player too, but here we are,” she shoots back.
Fair enough.
“I’m sorry. It’s just been a busy couple days, and it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.”
Lies. Blatant, boldfaced lies. It was a huge deal, but for some reason I didn’t tell Celena about it when she texted yesterday. I told her the outing went fine and that I’d fill her in later.
The truth is I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. It was too raw, too close to what I’d experienced with Drew, and I just couldn’t revisit it yesterday. I planned to call her tonight, but I needed a day to process.
“Spill it,” she says. “All of it.”
I sigh and fill her in. When I’m done, there’s a long pause.
“He called you ‘baby?’” Celena asks finally.
“Twice. The first time was for Drew’s benefit. The second time I think he was just drunk.”
“But he put his hand up your dress after you saw Drew, gyrated against you on the dance floor, spent the night feeling you up, then walked you to your car and kissed the shit out of you?”
I consider, wanting to correct her summary, but I can’t find any real flaws with it. “Yes,” I confirm.
“Gray,” she says, and there’s light reproach in her voice.
“What?” I say defensively.
“The guy wants you.”
I scoff. “No, he doesn’t. He just-”
“Occam’s Razor,” she interrupts.
“Excuse me?”
“Before you twist yourself in knots to give me a convoluted explanation that dismisses everything Ash did Saturday night, I just want to remind you of Occam’s Razor, which says…” She trails off, inviting me to fill in the blank.
“The simplest explanation of something is the most likely,” I supply.
“And the simplest explanation in this case is what?” she presses.
“That Ash wants me,” I say with resignation.
“And why don’t you want to believe that?” she asks in frustration.
I wrack my brain for whatever explanation she’s looking for.
“Because you’re afraid of being hurt again,” she says a few seconds later when I come up short.
“Right,” I say doubtfully. Occam’s Razor aside, I’m not convinced the simplest explanation is that Ash wants me.
“Gray, I can hear you overthinking this,” Celena accuses.
“I should call Ash,” I say as an excuse to end the conversation. “He left me two messages.”
“You haven’t called him back yet? Yes, call him, find out what’s going on, then call me back right away.”
“I will,” I lie, then hang up.
I pull up the two voicemails from Ash and listen to the first. Hearing his voice helps calm me. He doesn’t sound upset, and I dare to hope things haven’t gone to complete shit.
