Page 89

I hated being such a goddamn cliché.

I listened as the door swung open, and he stepped inside, hanging up his coat and dropping his keys in the bowl on the table. His footsteps came down the short hall past the kitchen, and he turned to head down the hallway.

“Hey,” I croaked, my voice rough from disuse.

Mikey jumped and spun toward me. “Jesus, Cal. You scared me.”

I smiled despite my sour mood. “I can see that.”

He let out a breath, scratching his fingers through his mop of curls. His hair was getting so long.

“Hey,” he said, his voice careful. “I … uh …”

I hated that I’d caused this. That I’d made him unsure how to be around me now.

I owed him an apology.

Me catching feelings was my problem, not his.

It wasn’t his fault that I couldn’t keep my head on straight, and it sure as hell wasn’t fair to freeze him out over it. He was still my best friend, the only one I’d ever really had. If I never got to be with him again, I needed to still be able to have that.

I needed to act like a best friend now; not a jealous lover.

“How was your date?” I forced myself to ask.

“That’s what you have to say after two fucking days ignoring me?” His hand came away from his hair, and he huffed out a sound of disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest, his whole body tensing.

I scrubbed a hand over my eyes. “I was being a dick for no reason. I’m sorry. Really. You didn’t deserve that.” I fought the compulsion to pull my eyes away, to look anywhere but at him.

Mikey’s shoulders relaxed, and with a loud exhale, he crossed the room and dropped onto the far end of the couch. “It’s fine, Cal.”

He sounded exhausted.

“It’s not,” I said, spinning to face him, my arm propped on the back cushions. “I … Nielson’s comment freaked me out, and I kind of lost my mind a little bit. You shouldn’t have had to deal with my shit.”

Mikey stared at me for a few long seconds, chewing on his bottom lip, his expression thoughtful. But then he blinked and turned away, muttering, “Nielson’s an idiot.”

“I mean, yeah, but given that um …” I scratched my cheek. “Given he kind of implied we’re together, I panicked.”

Mikey didn’t speak for a long moment. He looked down at the cuff of his shirt, found a loose thread at the button, and started picking at it, loosening it until the thread was long enough to wind around his finger, tighter and tighter, until it snapped and the button fell off.

“Fuck.” He fished it out from between his legs and set it on the coffee table before collapsing back against the cushions.

He looked completely wrung out.

He looked how I felt.

After a few seconds, he tipped his face forward, and when he turned to look at me, I knew what was coming.

His date had gone well. He wanted to give it a real shot with her. He didn’t want to hurt me, and I could see it was killing him to have to.

The least I could do, I thought, was make it easy on him.

I cleared my throat and pushed my big, inconvenient feelings down deep, turning the rusty lock on the vault door.

“So, how’d it go tonight?” I asked, injecting a note of false cheer into my voice. “Did Nielson finally do something right?”

I didn’t really want to know. But I wanted Mikey’s happiness more than my own, and if this Paige person was the key to that, I would sit here and be glad that he’d met her.