I groaned, pressing my palms into my eyes, as if I could physically block out the conversation. “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, really?” Her smile widened, eyes full of mischief. “Because it sure as hell looks like something. The dancing, the kissing, the way he looks at you like you invented fire?—
I glared. “We aren’t getting together. I made that clear.”
Her grin stretched wider. “Mmhmm. Sure.”
“Fi.”
“What?” She shrugged. “I’m just saying, you’re buzzing around him like he’s a walking power source. It’s not my fault your energy screams smitten.”
I exhaled slowly, fingers tightening on my knees. “I am not smitten.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you acting like you just swallowed a live grenade?”
I blinked.
She tilted her head, studying me, her voice suddenly too soft, too knowing. “Michelle, are you waiting for him to leave and hurt you?”
The breath left my lungs sharply. I didn’t answer because shit, she knew she was right.
That was what my brain always did. What it had been trained to do. Anticipate the worst. Prepare for impact. Don’t get attached.
My own father left me. My mother had never been there at all. My brother had chosen addiction over everything. They used me for their benefit whenever they wanted and tricked me into trusting them time and time again.
So why would Brooks be any different?
Fiona sighed, softer now, leaning into me. “You’re breaking your rules already. Good for you.”
I frowned. I was, wasn’t I?
“Maybe.” I swallowed. “It can’t hurt to have one night with him, just to see if he’s how I remember.”
Fiona arched a brow. “And?”
I sighed in defeat. “Yeah. He’s still incredible. And annoying.”
“I get it, girl.” She nudged my leg. “Gideon did that to me, even though he was a total dickhole for two months.”
I laughed.
“Love is weird,” she continued, stretching out her arms dramatically. “It makes zero sense. But don’t fight it. He’s the best thing to come into my life. Makes it all colorful and fun. It was confusing at first, but once I accepted it? No regrets.”
I bit my lip, watching my best friend literally glow with happiness.
She had it so easy. She let herself fall.
I wasn’t sure I knew how and the risks were just too high.
“You’re so happy, and it pleases me more than you know,” I murmured.
She leaned in harder, our shoulders pressing. “And I want you to be happy too.”
I sighed. “I don’t have time for more. Whatever more means. I work sixty hours a week and study when I’m not sleeping. You’re about the only person I’d take two weekend nights off for, you know?”
