He nods and says he’ll think it over.
“Good enough for me,” I reply.
And since we’re guys and in the midst of a golf game, we leave it at that.
The news is out that Lennox and I are a couple. It broke last night. Everyone is pretty much happy for us, except for Claire. Not that she’s mad per se, but she did send me a text earlier today that she’s coming over so we can “talk.”
I’m sure she’s upset that I didn’t tell her the news in person, and that she had to find out about it via Instagram—among many other social media sites.
I wanted to tell her beforehand, I really did, and I probably should have, but the truth is, I was scared of her reaction.
Now I’m going to have to deal with it anyway, ’cause she just rang the doorbell at my house.
Biting my lip and closing my eyes as I swing open the door, I blurt out, “I’m sorry.”
Silence.
I open my eyes, and damn, my friend looks pissed.
Pushing her phone into my chest, making me take a few steps back, she comes in and says shrilly, “Thisis how I find out you’re dating freaking Lennox? Through an Instagram post? Youbetterbe sorry, girl.”
She gives me one more good push with the phone before she pulls it back with a huff.
I immediately go into crisis-control mode. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I reiterate. “I should’ve told you first, but I was afraid.”
“Afraid?” she scoffs. “Of what?”
I level her with an “oh please” look. “Seriously, Claire. Come on! Look at you now. Not to mention, you hate the guy. I was worried you’d try to get me to ditch him or something.”
She chuffs, “Like you’d ever listen to me. Clearly, you didn’t heed my initial warnings.”
With my feathers ruffling, I volley back, “Hey, Lennox is a good guy. He’s not who you think he is.”
Claire rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. I know his reputation. And a tiger doesn’t change his stripes overnight, Madison.”
“Okay, okay,” I concede. “He’s not always been an angel, that’s true. But, Claire, neither have I.”
She knows I have her there.
After a beat, she sighs. “All right. You have a point. Who knows?” She shrugs. “Maybe you two are actually perfect for each other.”
“We are,” I state defensively.
I get another eye roll for that.
And then, blowing out a breath, she says, “I guess I’m more upset that Easton knew before I did and never said a word to me. By the way”—her gaze meets mine—“he’s in the doghouse too.”
“Hey, at least I’m not all alone in there,” I quip.
At first I think I’ve gone too far, taken her concerns too lightly. But then she smiles, and two seconds later, we’re laughing together.
Stepping over to me, she draws me in for a huge hug. “I love you, you big jerk,” she says into my hair. “But next time you have some news like that, just tell me ahead of time, okay?”
I give her an extra squeeze and assure her, “I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
“Even if you’re scared of my reaction?” She raises a brow.
“Yes, even if I am terrified, I’ll still tell you first.”
