“How do you even know what I’m looking at you like if your eyes haven’t left your shoelaces, hmm, Gemma?”
“I don’t even have shoelaces,” I protest weakly, but honestly, I’m not up for arguing with her logic, so I force my gaze to meet hers. Relief floods my chest when it’s not pity that greets me there, but understanding.
I head her off, before she can start asking me questions I’m not sure how to answer. “Look, it took me by surprise, is all. He sprung it on me this morning, and it seemed like it came out of nowhere.”
Not a single muscle on her gorgeous face moves, not so much as a twitch of a black eyebrow, but I feel her stare burn into me, and I’m pretty sure she’s got some sort of vaporized truth serum in that look, as I crack, instantly.
“I’m working through it, okay? I might have been…harboring some lingering hope for us…” I trail off, never more appreciative of Alex’s friendship than this moment, when she chooses not to snort at my statement, or make me feel stupid for keeping this flame alight for so long. “But I am coming to terms with the factthat it’s not going to happen. I’m just trying to get my smile on in time for our first meeting tonight.” I throw her a dry look with several rapid blinks that tells herexactlyhow excited I am for said meet up.
“Honey, I’m amazed you put up with his ass as long as you have. He’s a sweet kid, but he is blind as a badger.”
My face screws up in confused thought. “Are…are badgers blind?”
“I presume so. Why would they eat all those gross bugs and shit if they could see? Anyway, my point is, this man is off hunting for bugs when he’s got a prize meal right in front of him, he’s just never opened his eyes to see what’s there.”
A weak smile lifts the corners of my mouth, and I appreciate her trying with me.
“Okay, that was a terrible metaphor, but look, my point is he’s a fucking dumbass, okay?”
That makes a laugh crack out of me, and her shoulder nudges mine comfortingly.
“Men can be actual dumbasses. Thank the Lord some of ’em make up for it in other ways, otherwise we’d have no damn use for their shit.”
I jerk my chin up in amused agreement, as if my inexperienced ass has any grasp on all the things a man can bring to the table.
“Listen, I’ve seen you with him five days a week, forty-plus weeks a year, for three years now. It was obvious to me on day one, but after all these years, if he hasn’t figured it out yet…honey, it’s time to change something. And I don’t mean try to break him and his girlfriend up, that’s so 2007.”
God, does she know I practically humped him and his morning wood this morning?“I—I don’t want to break them up.”
“Good. Because from the outside looking in, I think it’s time you move on. You deserve someone who sees you for the woman you are, and appreciates all you have to offer the right person.” Her warm smile is so reassuring, I don’t even hate the idea.
“Yeah?” Hesitation muddies my tone, my self-confidence lacking in this department. When it comes to my job? I know I’ve got this shit under control. When it comes to the prospect of finding someone to spend time with, to make a romantic pass at—and God forbid, hook up with—I genuinely don’t even know where to start. How do you meet people these days? Is there somewhere I’m supposed to go?Please tell me I don’t have to download an app.Am I supposed to look like the girls on social media to make this work? I probably need interesting topics to discuss and answers to his questions that won’t come off completely secretive, or just plain lame.What about?—
“Yeah.” Her firm voice pulls me out of my internal spiral and near-freak-out over all of the things I have to figure out in order to even find someone to move on with. Never mind it being a person who would actually be a good match for me, and me for them, and let’s not bring physical attraction into it?—
“Gemma!” She snaps her fingers in my face, pulling me back out of a second epic mental meltdown in even fewer minutes (a new record), and my eyes shoot back to hers.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “I’m not opposed to the idea. I think it’s about time. I just—I’ve never really dated much. I wouldn’t really know where to start.”Understatement of the year, but no need to make myself sound as pathetic as Aaron clearly thinks my dating life is.
“Well,” she says gently, clasping my hand in hers as we finally make it to the little independent coffee shop she prefers, even though it’s an extra couple of blocks farther away than the Starbucks. “Take your time. No need to rush into it. You want to be trulyreadyto move on before putting yourself into thatrodeo. Otherwise, you’ll wind up with a broken back and no clue how you got there. And I don’t mean that metaphorically. Some of the kids these days are batshit crazy in bed. Can’t get off unless the risk of death is involved. Stay safe.” She shoots me a reassuring wink that says she’s only half kidding, but my thighs tighten instinctively, protecting my more vulnerable parts automatically.
A deep breath helps me feel slightly more confident about this plan, and I let some of my insecurities show. Getting past them might be a two-woman job. “Once I’m ready…what do you evendoto try to date these days? I have no life outside of this place. Unless one of the gaffers and I hit it off at craft services, I’m pretty much out of luck in the meeting viable men department.”
She shoots me a sly grin and holds open the door to the coffee shop for me to head in first. “I may have someone up my sleeve for you.”
Nowthattakes me by surprise.
“Seriously?”
She nods at me, smiling. “I’ve had my eye on him for you for a while now. I’ve been…reserving him for when you were ready. We worked on a show together.”
A gasp leaves my lips, and the barista looks at me expectantly, but I’m not ready to shift my focus just yet. “Game o—” She slaps a hand over my mouth, cutting me off mid-sentence, and looks at me expectantly.
“Yes.” There’s a bite to her tone, but it’s still kind. She places our order, treating me to the pick-me-up while she attempts to scrape my femininity off the floor after the mindfuck I’ve been in all damn day. “Anyway,” she starts back up again as we wait at the end of the counter for our drinks. Her elbows bob on either side of her head as she adjusts the messy ponytail that would make me look like Phil fromRugrats(not even Lil), yet lookschic on her. “You let me know when you’re ready to let someone in whose name isn’t Aaron ‘sleeps-on-what’s-right-in-front-of-him’ Stone, okay?”
It’s at this exact moment that I notice the magazine sitting face-up on the table closest to us. Guess who’s one of the guys on the cover? Yup.America’s Most Eligible Bachelors, Hollywood Edition. Number seven. He was pretty proud of that ranking.Beat out Tom Holland!!!!his text to me said when he got the news from his publicist.
His effortless charm is radiating at me even in two-dimensional black and white. That face that’s so strikingly handsome, all rugged lines, hard angles, uniquely full of character. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to picture his stupid face for once.
