“Shakespeare.” Sutton nods with such confidence, Evelyn rears back in shock.
“Don’t do my man dirty like that,” the typewriters-and-pencils pajama girl gasps, genuinely offended.
Sutton brushes it off and turns to me, her eyes softening. “Just be honest with us. You know we’ll never judge.”
My shoulders drop on a sigh, and a pang of guilt hits me in the chest.
These are my best friends—the ones I’m closest to—yet I’m the furthest thing from an open book. Anything too personal, too close to home, I’ve kept hidden from the light. My family. My past. I’m starting to realize that burying things is the number one way to go insane, so I bare it all.
“He came to the thought of me, and I almost did the same. I confided in him about my parents, then kissed him before he pushed me away. The next day, he told me he would have continued if it weren’t for my emotions or the deal he’s determined not to break, but he hasn’t texted me all week.”
The emotions I’ve bottled up for so long break to the surface.
I keep the self-judgment at bay by chugging back my margarita, then pour myself another. It’s my strongest drink yet, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the light buzz to my head.
“Not to mention, he’s unbelievably attractive, so fucking sweet, and too damn smart for his own good. He’s good with kids.”Sip. “He’s got a great family.”Sip. “He offered to drive us all the way to this conference because I was too scared to fly.”Sip. “And I honestly really like spending time with him.”
“Oh, Vivienne.” Evelyn’s hand lands on my shoulder with a tight squeeze. “You really like this guy.”
When she says it, I realize she’s right.
Feelings. Attachment. Strings. None of this was supposed to happen. It was meant to be quick—a fake engagement that benefited us both. So how am I finding myself here?
“And by the sounds of it, he likes you too,” Evelyn continues, her soft blue eyes fixed on mine.
I shake my head in denial, trying to convince myself otherwise. “Not possible. It’s lust more than anything…on both our parts.”
When Evelyn and Sutton look over at me with the questionable raise of their brow, I let out a long sigh, set my glass on the coffee table, and fall to land back first on the floor.
“Lust is rooted in sexual attraction—the answer you gave me came from the heart.”
Out of everyone in this room, Evelyn is probably the most qualified to give this kind of advice—she’s been in a long, committed relationship since high school. Not to mention, she reads a shit ton of romance books—Sutton as well, but she’s a little more erratic.
“I’d take a guess and say he’s just as scared as you. He might not show that he cares, but from what I’m hearing, he’s only pulling away because he does.”
I heave in a large breath, disappointed to have heard something that could further feed my delusions. They needed to be shut down—shoved into a closet and never spoken of again.
“What we need is a plan of action.” Sutton butts in. From the conviction in her voice, I already know exactly what’s going through her mind. And I don’t like it one bit.
In a panic, I shoot up from my place on the floor, the world turning black like that night in the fountain. To Evelyn’s dismay, and my general health, I still haven’t started taking my iron supplements. But that’s an aside.
“We are not seducing him!” I declare when my vision recovers, and Sutton’s devious grin comes into view.
Large hazel eyes meet mine, full of innocence, as she twirls an amber strand around her finger. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
My mouth drops in shock at the absurdity of the question—the possibilities were endless.
I drive each reason home with a raised finger, starting with my thumb. “It could make the next four months of our engagement beyond awkward.” Then my index. “We could lose any semblance of the friendship we built.” And lastly. “It might leave us both with regrets we can’t take back…Do you see how poorly this could turn out!” I exclaim in full-blown panic.
Sutton shakes her head like I have no clue what I’m talking about. “Vivienne, the only regrets people have in life are fromactions not taken. Let go. Have some fun. It could end poorly either way, so why not follow your heart and see where it takes you?”
I anxiously run my fingers through my hair. The last time I followed my heart—as in last week in Nate’s bed—I got rejection served on a silver platter. I told myself I’d never do it again, but Sutton might be onto something. An action taken is better than none at all—no matter the outcome.
“So what’s it going to be?” Sutton quirks a brow.
A soft snore cuts through the quiet, and we turn to find Evelyn fully passed out on the couch—mouth wide open.
“She’s probably tired from bedazzling that notebook,” I comment, gaping in shock when Sutton slaps a hand over my crossed legs.
