Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(11)


There were a few things wrong with that picture. One, Paisley hates Guinness with a passion, and thinks German beer should be the only beer consumed. Two, I’ve seen her cry two times in all the years that I’ve known her and remembered them perfectly. When her grandpa passed, and when Johnny Gallo tried to ruin her publicly after she gave him something I wished she’d saved for someone who treated her like she was his world. Three, she has only yelled at me once and that was two days after she got her first car. We had covered her car in Post-it notes, but only after we’d finished Saran-wrapping the entire thing. And four, I have never once, in the twelve years of knowing her, heard my Paisley cuss. Ever.

I was planning another trip to her apartment when my phone went off with her ringtone, and I launched across the space from the couch to the recliner.

“Pay?” I answered, and exhaled a heavy sigh of relief when I heard her voice come through.

“Hey, Eli.”

“How’ve you been, are you okay? Goddamn, Paisley, I don’t even understand what happened last weekend.”

“Language,” she whispered, and a large smile crossed my face. “Do you think—uh, do you think we could talk?”

I was already going for my keys on the counter. “Of course, I’m on my way to your place.”

“No!”

Jerking to a halt, I paused for a few seconds before rolling my eyes and grabbing my keys. “I’m coming to see you.”

“Can you meet me at Grind?”

“You haven’t answered my calls in almost a week, and you want to talk about last weekend in a coffee shop? Are you serious?”

She sighed, and when she finally answered me, her soft voice was determined. “Yes.”

“All right, when?”

“I’m already here.”

And I was already running out my door. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

I made it in nine.

I was trying to remain calm, but everything about this last week and her phone call had me on edge. Something had happened to her, and I needed to know what it was. I found her immediately at the table we normally sat at, and tried not to look like I was stalking over to her. She didn’t smile, and didn’t stand to meet me like she normally did, but I needed to reassure myself my Paisley was still here and okay.

Pulling her out of the chair, I wrapped my arms around her tiny shoulders and held her close—my body relaxed when I felt her arms go around my waist.

“What happened?”

She shrugged and pulled away to sit back down, and a frown tugged at my lips even as she tried to send me a reassuring smile. “I was just being dramatic. Nothing new there.”

Bullshit. “I’m going to get a coffee, how long have you been here?”

“About an hour.”

“Which means this is gone,” I assumed, and grabbed the empty cup. “I’ll get you another.”

After getting a black coffee for myself and another mocha for Paisley, I went back to the table and tried not to ask why she looked nervous as shit. Her brown eyes flickered up to mine and I felt my forehead pinch together. Was she wearing makeup? Since when does Pay wear makeup?

“So, uh, how’s work?”

The cup stopped halfway to my lips and stayed there before I placed it roughly back on the table. A week after the weirdest f*cking night of our friendship and that’s what I get?

“Okay, what the hell is going on? I haven’t seen you in a week. We never have these awkward silences. You never have to ask, ‘Uh, how’s work?’ And you’re wearing makeup, for Christ’s sake.”

Her eyes brightened, and her full lips went up into a soft smile. “You noticed I’m wearing makeup?”

“Are you f*cking kidding me? That’s what you’re going to go with out of all that?” When her cheeks darkened and her mouth formed a tight line, I sighed. “I’m a guy, but I still know what makeup is. I had to spend years trying to get Candice and Rachel not to wear that shit, so yeah, I noticed that you’re wearing it.”

“Langu—”

I leaned closer until I was right in front of her face and spoke low. “Language is about to get a whole lot worse if you don’t clue me in on whatever’s happening with you.”

“I met someone,” she blurted out, and I rocked back in my seat.

“What?”

“Um, I, uh—I met someone. A guy.”

“No, I got what you meant. When did this happen and do I know him?”

Her eyes were glued to her cup, but I wanted her to look at me so I could understand what exactly this guy had done to her. If he’d hurt her I was going to kill him.

“A few weeks ago, and, no, you don’t know him. We’ve gone out a lot since I met him . . .” She continued talking, but I didn’t hear anything else.

She’d met this guy weeks ago and hadn’t told me? And this entire week when I’d been trying to get ahold of her, she’d probably been on dates with him? Fuck. That. I didn’t care who this prick thought he was. Paisley was my closest friend; I wasn’t about to lose her to this guy. Especially if it meant her turning into the Paisley I’d seen the last two times we’d been together.

“Eli.” Her shaky tone finally broke through my inner brooding, and I looked up at her. “I need to tell you something—and I don’t want you to respond until the end when I ask you a question. Okay?”

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