Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly #1)(54)

The words feel sour on my tongue, and my body feels tight, like it wants to physically reject the words. And especially wants to reject what her answer will be.

“I think so,” she says quietly.

I ignore the strange splintering feeling inside me. “You think?”

“I don’t know!” she says, exploding off the couch. “I…can we just go back to the beginning of the conversation? I want to choose mute. I need to think, and I can’t think with you chirping in my ear.”

My temper spikes. “Not thirty seconds ago you were begging me for my thoughts on this. It’s not like I’ve been sitting here dying to force my opinion on you.”

“Do you even have an opinion?” she shoots back. “On anything?”

“I’ve got plenty of them,” I say, fully angry now. “But not on this. This has nothing to do with me!”

My outburst hangs between us, and she nods. “Right. You’re right, of course. This has nothing to do with you. I’m sorry, I just…I’m overwhelmed is all.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Probably not helpful.”

Her smile is small and sad and she doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Parks?” Instinctively, I know there’s something more. Something she hasn’t said yet.

Something I’m not going to like.

She lifts her eyes to mine, and they’re wide and a little bit scared.

“Lance wants me to move in with him.”

There’s no air in the room. I can’t even breathe.

“What did you tell him?” I manage.

“That I needed some time.”

I nod. “What are you going to tell him?”

Her eyes never leave mine, pleading with me to understand. “I’m going to tell him yes.”





Chapter 25


Parker


“I still can’t even believe this,” Lori says as she studies my leopard print flats before seeing them carefully into a moving box. “It’s the end of an era.”

I swallow.

The end of an era indeed.

I’ve had the exact same thought a million times.

And then I had about a million more thoughts wondering if I could get out of it—if I could back out of moving in with Lance.

For a second, I want to tell Lori everything. I want to confide in someone that the only reason I said yes to Lance was because I was scared. Scared to death that if I stayed with Ben things would change, horribly.

Except they’re still changing horribly, only now I have to deal with the change minus a best friend.

But telling Lori any of this is bound to bring up questions I’m not ready to answer.

Questions about me. And Ben.

About what the hell happened that last night in Cannon Beach.

So instead I say nothing, and continue my self–pep talk that moving in with Lance is the right decision. The move-forward-with-my-life decision.

I don’t look up from where I’m wrapping all of my perfume bottles in Bubble Wrap. “Thanks for helping me pack.”

“Oh, of course,” she says with a wave of her hand. “This is the easy part. At least you have two dudes to help with the heavy stuff tomorrow.”

I say nothing, and she pauses. “Right? Ben’s helping? Because I love you, but no way am I going to ruin my new manicure by helping you move that freaking dresser.”

“I haven’t really asked,” I say, keeping my back to her so she can’t read my expression. “But, yeah, I’m pretty sure Ben will help Lance load up the truck tomorrow.”

I’m not sure of this at all.

It’s not that Ben and I aren’t talking. We are. We’ve been perfectly civil. We have to be, because until noonish tomorrow, we’re living together. And we still carpool to work together.

But in the two weeks since I told him that I was moving in with Lance, we haven’t really connected. Not mentally. Not emotionally. Definitely not physically.

Neither of us will admit that anything is wrong. But something is wrong, and I’m dying inside.

“Okay, hey, I need to talk to you about something,” Lori says, oh-so-carefully setting a pair of ancient flip-flops in the box like they’re Louboutins before plopping down on my bed.

“Sure,” I say, grateful for the change of topic. Anything to stop thinking about Ben.

“It’s about Ben,” she says.

Or not.

“Okay…” I say.

I have the sudden premonition that I’ll want to sit down for this, only to realize that I’m already sitting cross-legged on the floor. Crap. Maybe I should be holding on to something.

“I’m going to ask him out. Ben. I’m going to ask out Ben,” she says.

Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and very, very clear, and yet it takes what feels like several minutes for her words to register in my brain.

“Lori—”

“No, I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupts. “That he’s a womanizing turd, and he’s going to break my heart because he doesn’t do relationships. But I like him, Parker. Enough that I want to risk it.”

“But—”

Lori’s smile is kind but firm. “Sweetie, with all due respect here, it’s not really up to you. I’m going to ask him to dinner. If he wants to say no, he can, but you don’t get to say it for him.”