“You got laid!” Nick announced confidently before I even made it to the table.
Nick harbored the fantasy that he had a sixth sense for when people had had sex. I wanted to refute his claim, but damn if he wasn’t right nine times out of ten.
I silently took my seat.
“How was the reunion?” Alex asked, because he, unlike Nick, had matured past the age of twelve.
“It was fine.”
I didn’t want to discuss the weekend. I was still trying to figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Peyton had been there. I was still trying to figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing that we’d slept together. I was still trying to figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she was gone in the morning and hadn’t said an actual goodbye.
“Fuckfine, we need a full debrief.” Nick insisted as he slapped his hand on the table. “And I would like confirmation that I am correct.”
I stared at the two men who knew nearly everything about my life, and mine theirs, and resigned myself to the fact that at some point I would have to share what happened. It might as well be now.
I sighed and told them everything from me leaving because she wasn’t there, to spotting her at the bar, to her taking the phone call from Trent, to us almost kissing, to us dancing, to us going upstairs, to me showing up at her door, to me spending the night, to her being gone when I woke up in the morning.
“She was gone?” Nick repeated.
“Yep.”
“Have you spoken to her since?” Alex asked.
“She didn’t give me her number.”
They both stared at me with a cut-the-shit look. They knew I had the resources to get her phone number. I had the resources to find out her address, credit score, what she ordered from DoorDash, what Ubers she took and where they took her. But I’d never used them before.
Last night, I had to admit, I had used my unique skills and attained her phone number. And I’d texted her. It was a simple text.
Maddox:It’s Maddox. Hope you got home safe.
That was it. I’d written, erased, and rewritten it at least a hundred times before sending it. Some drafts included that it was nice to see her. Other versions said that I hoped we could keep in touch. Some asked why she’d left, again, without so much as a word.
But in the end, I’d gone with short and sweet. There was no expectation attached to it, which I hoped would protect my heart from breaking further. If I didn’t ask a question, there was nothing for her to answer. If I didn’t mention that I hoped we’d keep in touch, there was no rejection if we didn’t. If I didn’t comment on how good it was to see her, there was no reason for her to respond in kind. Sending her the text I had would mean I wouldn’t be disappointed if she didn’t send one back.
So far, my brilliant plan hadn’t worked.
“I have her number. I texted her. She hasn’t texted back.”
Nick cringed as he sucked air through clenched teeth. “That’s gotta hurt.”
“Do you think it’s because of Trent?” Alex asked.
Nick turned his head toward Alex. “Who’s Trent?”
“He’s the guy she’s seeing,” I explained.
“But they aren’t exclusive, right?” Nick clarified.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like she’s seeing other people. Maybe she’s feeling guilty,” Alex offered in way of explanation.
“Or maybe she’s just not that into you,” Nick stated bluntly before his face contorted and he howled, “Ow!” as he bent down rubbing the shin that I was sure Alex had just kicked.
I couldn’t help but grin at the indignation on Nick’s face at what I’m sure he classified as an undeserved injury.
“What?!” He threw up his hands. “This is thesecond timeshe’s up and bounced after gettin’ down and dirty. I’m just saying, it might be time to move on.”
I nodded as I lifted the cup of coffee to my lips. “At least this time she told me that it would just be one night. She made that very clear.”
