I lived across the street from him.
If Jeremy moved in across the street from me now, I would key his car and throw eggs at his house until he got a clue and moved.
There was no way I could be a revolving door. I wanted to be settled. I needed it. I knew he cared about me, but what were the chances he wasn’t thinking straight?
Shit. I wasn’t going to risk it. We could be friends and that was all he had ever given me the impression he wanted, with the exception of him rubbing his mouth all over my neck…
And the notes I’d found in his pocket that might not have anything to do with me.
I couldn’t think about that, or ever again, if I was supposed to survive this.
“Well, you can look but not touch if you want to do that, D.”
“That’s real useful advice,” I grumbled.
“What do you want me to tell you? You’re the one who’s never had a problem saying whatever is on your mind. You always do what you want to do, and everyone else can go to hell. The Di I know—the Diana I knownow—doesn’t chicken out on things. So do whatever you want to do.”
I let out another grumble. How the hell was that supposed to help me?
“We’ll change the subject, chicken,” Vanessa went with when I didn’t say a word. “Did I tell you how Aiden makes Trevor call me when he’s gone, once every hour to make sure I’m fine? Can you believe that?”
“Nope.” Because I couldn’t. I knew how much Van hated her husband’s manager, and for him to have to call her all the time because Aiden was practicing was pretty damn hilarious. So I laughed because I was sure it must have been killing her inside a little too. “Sucker.”
My best friend snickered. “He’s the suck-up. I know for sure I never told you about how he bought us this baby stroller, and I looked it up. It costs four thousand dollars. For a baby stroller! I tried to return it, but he won’t tell me where he got it from. He should have used that money to buy things for someone who can’t afford the basics. I want to find a charity for pregnant women and donate money or items to them in exchange. It makes me feel guilty to get all this stuff.”
“Rich girl problems,” I teased her.
“Screw you.”
“Donate the money, or you can donate the money to me—”
That made her laugh. She knew there was no way I would ever ask her for money.
“You’re making me hurt, and I need to get back to work while Sammy is still napping,” the workaholic announced in a watery voice. “Text me later.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too. Be my Diana and take what you want!” she shouted before the call ended.
Hanging up, I gripped my phone, took another swallow of the coffee I’d been drinking all morning, and headed back out onto the floor.
Take what I want.
I didn’t have to figure out what it was that I wanted. I knew what it was. Exactly what it was.
And that was Dallas.
But what the hell was I going to do about it? I wondered as I left the break room and headed into the main section of the salon for my next appointment.
Sean had his client in his chair doing what looked like a keratin treatment, and Ginny was sitting at her station, texting on her phone. She looked like as much shit as I did. There were bags under her eyes and she looked pale. She’d come in to work after I did, and all we’d done was wave at each other. I wanted to tell her about what happened with her cousin two nights ago, but…
Well, they were family. Distant family, but family nonetheless. You didn’t talk about matters of the heart with people who were related.
But I could ask her what had been bugging me on and off for months.
Making my way to her station, I leaned over and took a peek at her roots as she finished typing whatever it was she was sending.
Self-consciously, she lifted a hand to her ruby red hair. “I know. It’s about time you did my roots.”
