“And what happens when you get drunk, Mabes? Your brain turns off and your vagina turns on. You spent like ten years repressing your feelings for Ryder and convincing yourself that you hate him, and as soon as you open yourself up to him a little bit?—”
“I’ll say it one more time: Because. You. Told. Me. To.”
“Your lady bits got the signal that it’s openseason. You’re freaking out because you’re finding it impossible to hate a man who wants to date you because you’ve wanted to hump him silly since you were a teenager.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore the grosser aspects of Danny’s mostly correct observation.
“I undressed in front of him. Ryder. At the gym.”
“You vicious trollop,” he deadpans.
“Well, actually, I suppose I dressed in front of him. I came out of the shower in a towel and he was there and I got dressed. He saw my panties, Danny. Ryder saw my panties.”
“Hold on, I’m texting the town elders. They say it’ll take a little time to get the pyre together, but we should be good to burn you with the other dirty whores by nightfall.”
“Will you be serious for half a second?” I cry, and my best friend laughs.
“I’m sorry, Mabes. I’m just not understanding the problem here.”
“It was so stupid. I was trying to be nonchalant, you know? Like it was no big deal, we’re just two athletes in a locker room, immune to each other’s naked bodies. But then he was acting nonchalant too, and it hurt my feelings. I was in nothing but a towel in front of him, and he didn’t do anything. I mean, Ihad my back turned and I could feel him looking. But don’t you think, if he liked me he would’ve…you know…”
“Bent you over and plowed you into next week?”
“Exactly.”
“You know, if you were a character in a movie, you’d be a very unlikeable one. You’re giving me whiplash here, Mabel. You’re confused because Ryder wants to spend time with you. You pretend not to know how much he likes you. You treat him like an enemy. You’re upset that he didn’t mount you like an animal the first time you showed a little skin, even though you created all these rules for this marriage and you’ve given the man no indication that you’re interested in him.”
“I married him, for god’s sake!”
“Yeah, and according to the version of the story you told me, the second you sobered up, you told a room full of people you both love that you don’t even like him.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I’ve got nothing. Danny is right. I’m a mess. I’m a confused, messy brat and even I can’t be on my side right now.
I’ve spent my life erecting these walls around myself, creating this persona of someone who keeps her head down, doesn’t care what people think, and is laser focused on the next goal. I’ve had to, otherwisethe scrutiny of my job would rot my soul. But in doing so, I let myself believe the worst in everyone, and I think I might have accidentally turned my heart into a block of ice in the process.
“Oh god, I’m the asshole, aren’t I?” I groan, tossing my head back and pinching the bridge of my nose.
“You said it, sweets. Not me.”
I swear, sometimes I miss the time before my frontal-lobe developed when I could unironically blame all of my problems on anything but me and actually believe the lies I told myself.
“Alright, but how do I fix this? How do I untangle this stupid web of secret crushes and repressed feelings and grievances?”
“Hey, here’s an idea. Talk to your husband! Tell him how you feel, not me.”
“Tell him how you feel, not me,” I grumble in a mocking tone.
A pair of headlights shines through my window, and I see Ryder’s truck pulling into the spot next to me.
“He’s here, I’ve gotta go.”
“Remember Mabes, shoulders back, tits up, and try not to be such a self-absorbed bitch. Love you, mean it!”
I roll my eyes but smile as I tap the screen to endthe call. I’m glad I have someone like Danny who loves me unconditionally but isn’t afraid to call me on my shit.
There’s a gentle rap on my window, and I turn to see Ryder waiting for me in the cold. When our eyes meet, his smile grows a mile wide, showing off the slight gap between his two front teeth and the crinkles by his eyes. He lifts his hand and presents a bouquet of white lilies, and the butterflies in my stomach that I’ve spent years ignoring take flight, flapping wildly and making me feel unsteady.
“I thought you might have ditched me,” I say when I finally gather the courage to open the car door.
