Maybe it’s leftover adrenaline from seeing Echo in my space yesterday, or maybe it’s just my brain’s way of telling me I’ve been alone with my thoughts for too long. Either way, with only twenty minutes left until we close, I’m ready for this day to be over.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I pull it out and see Echo’s name flashing on the screen, I drop the damn thing like it burned me.
It clatters against the ground, and I just stare at it for a second, waiting for it to attack me.
Get it together.
You’re fine.
I pick up my phone and flip it face down on the coffee table without reading the message.
I tell myself it’s because I don’t owe him anything. That yesterday was a onetime, deeply fucked-up encounter that ended the moment he walked out of the shop. But then my phone buzzes again, and dread sinks deep into my gut.
Shit. He warned me what would happen if I ignored him.Do I really want to give him a reason to come here?
I exhale through my nose and slowly turn it over.
Echo: You’re avoiding me again.
Echo: See.
Fuck.
I didn’t think he’d notice.
A hollow laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it.
Of coursehe noticed.
He’s arrogant, presumptuous, and far too perceptive.
Now that he’s reached out again, ignoring him feels like the wrong move.
He’s already curious about me, and curiosity turns into persistence if I’m not careful. I need to do what I always do when people get too close. Push, deflect, and stay sharp enough to keep distance, but funny enough to make it seem accidental. Eventually, he’ll tire of my attitude and move on.
I type out a response, my fingers stiff over the screen.
Am I? Or have I just been too busy with work to respond to the egomaniac who strong-armed his way into my contacts?
I stare at the message, jaw tight, with my thumbhovering over the send button. It’s sharp and a little defensive, but it works.
Before I can overthink it, I hit send.
You’re the one who wanted to be friends with me, Bambi.
I press my lips together. I don’t like that he has a nickname for me. It suggests a sense of familiarity that we don’t have.
True.
But I was desperate.
I pause, then add,
So really, this friendship was kind of a last resort.
There’s a pause. Not a long one, but enough to make me wonder if I took it too far.
So we are friends.
