“Else, what the fuck?” Taevin grumbles, lightly shoving her friend’s shoulder.
“Oh, come on. Like he doesn’t probably already know he made you cry yourself to sleep earlier? And if he doesn’t, he needs to and does now. You’re welcome.”
“Elsie!” Taevin admonishes, now covering her face with her hands.
Steering the conversation just slightly, I hold up the bag and drink carrier in my hands. “I brought provisions. I wasn’t completely sure what you liked to drink before a performance, but I got you a green tea and a berry smoothie—both listed as beverages that help reduce inflammation. I also brought you a leafy salad with tomatoes and walnuts to try to help. If I was completely off base, let me know and I can go get you whatever else you’d like.”
Taevin’s face crumbles into what looks like uncertainty. She’s likely questioning my motives because my current actions don’t match how I behaved earlier.
“Hey, Else, could you please give us a few minutes?” Taevin asks.
“Yeah, no problem. I can go downstairs for a coffee.”
“I’ve got an iced one and a black one here if you want either of those,” I tell her, holding up the drink carrier. “You don’t need to leave. Taevin and I can just go talk in the other room,” I suggest, nodding in the direction of Taevin’s closed bedroom door.
Elsie looks to Taevin to gauge her response. Tae nods once at Elsie then rises from the barstool and marches toward her room, but not before making sure to shoulder me on her way past. I follow her into the room and shut the door behind me, standing there with my back against the wood as I work through what I want to say to her.
Taevin beats me to it when she asks, “Are you sure she’d be okay with you coming into my room like this right now?”
I blink, my brain trying to catch up. “Who are you talking about?”
“Alexa, your girlfriend.” Taevin states it so detached, as if she’s unaffected by the fact that she thinks I have a girlfriend.
“Alexa is not my girlfriend,” I assure her.
Rolling her eyes, Taevin corrects herself, “Fine, your friend with benefits.”
“Not that either. Last time she and I spoke, she said she had just started seeing someone.” Pushing off the door, I eliminate the space between us until I’m standing toe-to-toe with her like we were earlier.
Taevin’s face scrunches up. “But the two of you seemed comfortable together—you two were cuddling on your couch.”
“I’d hardly consider giving her a noogie cuddling. Bit of a stretch, don’t you think? But good to know I can’t put my arm around a friend because she’s a girl without that meaning we’re either dating or fucking.” I can feel myself getting worked up, so I take a deep breath.
She crosses her arms and quirks a brow. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, considering you threatened my manager only hours ago for doing just that.”
Breathing out a sigh of defeat, I rub my hand down my jaw. “Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“And you know that’s not what I meant. The two of you seemedfamiliarwith each other.” I don’t miss what she’s getting at, and if I’m not mistaken, I’d say there’s a hint of jealousy in her tone.
Instead of calling her out on that, I try to put her mind at ease. “Alexa and I got closer this year because we were sick of being the only two single ones in the group. I did ask her out, and after one date we both agreed we’re better off as friends. But then when the rest of the group assumed we were something more, we didn’t correct them because it was easier to let them maketheir assumptions than explain that we’d become really good friends. We’ve gone to a few events together so her parents stay off her back about needing to settle down and I got my brother and friends off my back about needing to move on and forget about you.”
Taevin is silent at my admission, her hands dropping to her sides.
“There’s just one problem,” I say as I take another step into her space, crowding her as my chest brushes up against hers.
“What’s that?” she questions, now sounding a bit breathless.
“There’s no moving on from you, Taevin. You made that impossible when you tattooed yourself on my soul.”
“You can’t possibly mean that, J. Especially not after the things you said earlier today—”
I cut her off. “About that. I’m so sorry for fighting with you. There’s no excuse for my behavior. Was I jealous? Yes. But that doesn’t justify the way I spoke to you earlier. I’m so fucking sorry, T.”
She’s silent for so long I worry she won’t forgive me. Finally, she whispers, “Want to make it up to me?”
“I’d do anything to make it up to you,” I tell her, because it’s god’s honest truth.
“Play with me.”
