"And then what happened?" Jenna gasps as she asks.
"I stormed back inside, had a few shots of tequila, danced until I could no longer stand straight, then went back to our apartment and threw up on his clothes. That’s not even the worst part." I groan, reliving my embarrassment all over again.
"What could be worse than that?"She teases.
"I invited him to have a shower with me, to which he politely declined, even though he told me he wants to fuck me. Then when I woke up in his t-shirt this morning, I panicked thinking that we’d had sex, and said, ‘thank god’ out loud when he told me we didn’t." I finish my ramble, letting out a deep breath.
I didn’t mean it in that way at all.
I just meant that if we had sex, I wanted to be sober so I could remember it.
"Oh boy," is all Jenna says.
"I’ve barely spoken to him since, and it’s been a week. We have that wedding expo coming up next month and now I don’t think I want to go." I sink further into my bed.
"Girl, you’re going to the expo because it means you get to see me. With the whole Harley situation, I say suck it up." Blankets cover the screen as she gets herself comfortable. "Maybe take him out to lunch. Thank him for defending you, but express your concerns, too. Tell him that while you appreciated it, you don’t condone violence. Ask any burning questions you have and be open and honest with him about any questions he might have."
She’s right.
Violence is something I would never tolerate, especially over me, knowing we could have all walked away without injury.
Sure, Austin said some vile things, but he would have had to deal with the consequences of that alone. But now Harley has to deal with the mental and physical consequences of hurting someone, too.
His old best friend.
The Harley I knew in school was never violent. Even during games, he would be the bigger man and walk away. No matter what.
"Okay."
"Worst case, just tell him you want to ride him into oblivion and figure the rest out later." I adore a sarcastic Jenna at the best of times, but not at times like this, where I need my best friend to be serious. "Start from the beginning, C. Start with the break-up. Tell him you weren’t in a rush to move on, but the moment you saw him, you reconsidered every choice you ever made in yourlife." Finally, something logical. I mean, I won’t say any of that, but he deserves honesty from me.
What’s the worst that could happen?
"I’ll text him," I say, pulling my phone away from my ear to text Harley, only to see that he’s beaten me to it. "Wait, he’s texted me." Anxious, I fumble my phone in my hands as I swipe to open the message.
"What does it say?" she squeals.
"It says'Can we talk?'What should I say?" I stare at the phone in my hand, mind going blank.
"Just tell him yes," she replies.
"Okay, hang on," I say as I open the text to reply.
Me: Sure, when?
Harley:The barn at the winery, 20 minutes.
"Shit, he wants to meet tonight. In twenty minutes. I can’t get ready in twenty minutes." Leaping out of my bed, I look at myself in the mirror and groan as I stare at his oversized t-shirt that I’ve worn every single night since we’ve been home.
"Yes, you can. Just take a breath, put some sweatpants on, and go hear what he has to say," she says, and I do exactly that.
Only, I opt for a cute, yellow, long sleeve dress and a denim jacket, because I can’t have the hottest man on the planet see me in sweatpants and his t-shirt that I haven’t washed in seven days.
Me:see you there.
twenty-four
Harley
