“It’s cute that you think that. Listen, don’t email anybody right now. That’s a bad idea. Maybe cap that bottle you’re drinking from, go get some food, and park it in your room for the rest of the night. You don’t want to say or do something stupid. If you really like Kelsey, then let me help you figure out a way to show that.”
“Think a pigeon will carry a note to her?”
“Great possibility, man.”
I sigh again. “Okay.”
“Okay? So, you’re going to go get some food, and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“Yeah.”
“And no emailing.”
“Right, no emailing.”
“Good. And hey, not sure I said this, but good job being a voice for the pigeons, man. You’re doing God’s work.”
I clutch my chest. “Thank you, that means a lot to me.”
After some goodbyes, I hang up feeling marginally better. I saved the polar bears and the pigeons and I’m going to win Kelsey. What a productive afternoon.
Pleased with myself, I cap the Scotch bottle like Breaker said, pick up my empty glass, and head toward the kitchen. Just then, I hear the door open, and I pause in the hallway, holding my breath.
She’s home.
Do I want her to see me like this?
Probably not.
I know I told Breaker I wasn’t drunk, but let’s call a spade a spade—I’m fucking sitting pretty right now, and I don’t need to mess up anything with Kelsey because Scotch has been my mistress this afternoon. So, I spin on my heel and head for my bedroom, but I stop when I hear a male voice.
I quickly turn back around. No fucking way did she bring him back here.
I slide along the wall, hoping to stay undetected as I attempt to eavesdrop on a conversation I’ve no right listening to.
I grow closer and closer. Then I hear Kelsey.
“Thank you so much for walking me up here. You really didn’t have to.”
Yeah, you didn’t have to, fucker. She’s more than capable, she’s done it many times already.
“I just felt bad, the way I left you last time.”
Because you’re a moron.
“Well, thank you. I had a nice time,” Kelsey says in her sweet voice, and I swear if I hear them kiss, I’ll fucking melt into a puddle of despair right here.
“Me too.”
I hold my breath.
I wait for the telltale sound of two mouths colliding.
I’m tempted to whip around the corner and watch desperately as they say goodbye.
“I’ll call you,” Derek finally says, and I can’t tell if they kissed, hugged, or shook hands again, but it’s nearly killing me.
“Okay, sounds good. Have a good rest of your day.”
