27. Issues

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I broke Rule Number One in the Chicks Before Dicks playbook — don't ditch your friend for a guy.

Or his dick.

And obviously, don't do it for a promise of more kisses.

I hope Leah forgives me. I probably made Brian happy since she'll spend the afternoon with him. I might also be in desperate need of an excuse to justify texting her that something came up just because Bast asked me to wait for him at home.

As soon as I enter our apartment, I take off my shoes and pad to my room, where I put some music on.

My sex playlist. Correction: a playlist I made in case I had sex that meant something one day.

I change the bedding, take a hot shower, and lotion myself from head to toe. Instead of jeans and a top, I slip into a light gray dress. Guy friendly. Shows legs, has no zippers or buttons — a joy to take off.

The aroma of the Chicken Alfredo I made mingles with the scent of the lit candles scattered around the living room. Sebastian must be hungry; plus, talking as we have dinner together will put us both at ease.

Is he the kind of guy who does the dinner and wine thing? He wasn't with Elena, but maybe their relationship was different. Or maybe I'm fooling myself.

I finish setting the table, and my phone vibrates on the couch. As I unlock the screen, my heartbeat stutters at the sight of a text from Bast.

My hopes soar only to crash a second later.

Bast: Don't wait for me. I'm sorry.

He didn't say he'd be late, which means he's not planning on being home soon. Or at all.

My thumb hovers over the screen. I'm tempted to text it's okay, but it's not. I'd be bullshitting myself, and if the movie He's Just Not That Into You taught me something, it is that guys go after the girl they want, and they don't cancel a date just because, especially not when they're sure to get laid.

My eyes dart from the phone to the table I'd set.

Once again, I hole up in my bedroom and play the Girl Power playlist as I lie in bed. For some reason, my eyes sting.

Stupid eyes. I blink, staring at the ceiling. When my phone buzzes on the comforter beside me, my heart does a flip.

Stupid heart.

A glance at the Caller ID is all it takes to clear my throat and answer the call.

"Hey, Kenny."

"Hi. Am I interrupting?"

I wish.

I put him on speaker and grab a pink throw pillow to cuddle. "No. I was going to work for a bit. I didn't do much over the break."

"Doctor Jennings would applaud you."

"Mh-hmm." I clutch the pillow to my chest and nod, although Kenny can't see me.

"Anyway, I just wanted to know how your break went."

Guilt tugs at my insides. I should be the one asking him that. "It was good. How are you holding on?"

"I worked on new designs. I think they're okay. I'll send you the pics. And I don't know, Tara. I still miss him. Holidays are hard. I wish they'd told us it's not the big stuff. It's always the little things. The song he liked or," Kenny swallows, "the stupid old shirt he wore. This time, it was something random — a book. It was on his TBR list, but he never got to read it. And some kid at the bookstore was raving about it, and I had to fucking leave. I ditched the books at the checkout and left."

"Healing isn't linear."

Kenny laughs through tears, and I join in, wiping at my cheeks. "Doctor Jennings would be happy to know we both quote him. You know what small thing it was for me?"

"A dress?"

"A nickname." I lie on my side, bringing my bent knees to my chest. "Sebastian called me Barbie, and each time it was as if he sliced my heart open. He didn't know. And I won't tell him, either. Not after today, that's for sure."

"What did he do today?"

I smile at the change in Kenny's tone that went from soft to threatening. "We did something. We kissed. In an old lighthouse to the sounds of a raging storm. And he stood me up when I wanted to be fucked."

"Roommates, my ass. I knew it. Is he a good kisser?"

"I don't kiss and tell, Kenneth."

"You already did both, Tara Atla Hagen Van Doren."

"Don't full-name me, you dick."

"Wait a minute."

Something shuffles on the other end, and I brace myself for what's coming.

"He's the best you've ever had," Kenny yells. "That tongue. Oh. My. God."

Giggles fly out of my mouth. I clamp a hand over it, but the laughter is impossible to stop now.

"You're the worst, Kenneth," I say, my body still shaking.

"Now it's lecture time." Kenny sighs. "You've been through too much to go through even more. Make sure Sebastian treats you the way you deserve to be treated."

"I will. But he probably regrets kissing me, so I think we'll do some roommating, for my sanity's sake. You know, no tongues involved. No fingers. Or other body parts."

"You need to get laid."

"As in last year."

"Take care, Atla."

"I hate you."

Kenny whistles into the phone.

"Okay, I don't hate you, hate you."

"Your blabbering is adorable. One more thing."

I sit, pulling the hem of my dress down. "What?"

Kenny chuckles. "Does Sebastian know about Rhett?"

I glance at my nightstand drawer, biting my lip. "No. I'd rather keep us secret, you nosy—"

"Bye."

The line goes dead. Before I put the phone down, a meme featuring Rhett and Scarlett from Gone With The Wind pops up on the screen.

Dick.

***

There must be a link between being mad at a guy and female productivity. Because now that the disappointment wore off, I'm pissed. Which resulted in two blog posts. One about the right type of jeans for your body, and another one featuring the pictures of my client – a cut-throat lawyer named Keira who already had a great idea of what color scheme suited her when she hired me.

It's almost ten p.m. when I power off my computer and decide to call it a day. I could read or watch something on TV, but I'd swap those things for someone's company in a heartbeat.

Sadly for me, the guy whose company I want is out, avoiding me.

I stroll to the kitchen to put away the food I cooked. I should've shoved it in the fridge and removed the silverware and plates way earlier — the last thing I want is for Bast to know I was waiting for him with dinner, music, and wine.

A harsh buzzing sound makes me halt. It takes a few seconds to understand our doorbell is the source.

An invisible weight seems to have attached itself to my legs as I shuffle my feet to the foyer. Bast must've forgotten his keys, and I don't think I'm ready to face him or pretend his text didn't upset me.

"Baby girl."

Drew's voice booms outside the apartment, and I rush to open it, my pulse ratcheting up.

"You've got mail. A heavy package, to be exact," Drew says, pointing a hand at something.

My throat constricts. Bast is sitting on the floor, his long legs outstretched, and his head hanging low. I step over the threshold and crouch down next to him, flinching at the stench of alcohol.

"What happened?"

Drew pats my shoulder. "Let me get him into the apartment first."

I jump to my feet and hold the door open so he can drag Bast inside.

Once Drew has left Sebastian on the bed in his room, we head to the kitchen.

"Water?" I ask.

Drew shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah. Thanks."

I fill a glass and hand it to him. "So, Bast was with you."

"No." He downs the water in a few gulps and sets the empty glass on the counter. "Nash and I went to The Nerd after working out. Bast was already there, a couple of drinks away from being smashed. I said he'd had too much, he told me to mind my fucking business. Long story short, when I saw he was about to pass out, I took him home."

I study my red nails. "Thank you."

"He's the one who should thank Nash and me." Drew winks.

His gaze shifts from me to the table set for two. "Tara."

"Yeah?"

"Were you waiting for that fool?"

He knows I was. And that Drew knows turns the situation into something even more embarrassing.

"Don't tell him anything, okay? It's between Bast and me," I say.

"I wouldn't do anything you don't want me to do. I just... Hutches got drunk on the regular Freshman year. I don't know what was eating at him, but he's got issues. I don't want you to get hurt trying to fix him."

I nod, and Drew hugs me before leaving.

As soon as the sound of the front door closing echoes in the apartment, I press my palms to my face and allow myself to cry.

Thoughts?


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