Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(12)

He hurt her. I knew it. That’s it; he was dead.

“Eli?”

“Yeah, okay,” I growled.

Paisley’s dark eyes turned sad and she shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re mad about, but we don’t have to do this right now, we can do it later.”

When she started to stand, I grabbed her hand and held her there. “No, I want to do this now, but I need to know if he hurt you, Pay. It’s killing me thinking of everything this guy might have done to you.”

“Of course he didn’t!”

Relief surged through my body until I realized that there was still something else making her act like this. Trying to keep my tone neutral, I urged her to tell me. “Okay, I promise I’ll stay quiet until your question.”

Her eyes immediately fell back to her coffee cup as she took measured breaths in and out—and just when I was about to beg her to talk to me, she looked back up.

“This guy I met, Brett, he’s—well, he’s different. Like, he’s a game changer for me. I look at him, and I have no doubt of that. I have no doubt that I could spend the rest of my life with him.”

Oh shit. It was like Jason said. I really was going to lose my Paisley.

“And I know that sounds crazy after only a few weeks, but, honestly, I knew it the first day I met him. I don’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t like the world stopped turning or anything, there was just a feeling I had.” She swallowed roughly and looked away for a second. “But there’s this other guy, and I swear this guy owns my soul.”

There was another guy? And she hadn’t said anything? We’d always told each other everything. Seriously, when the hell did all this change?

“Eli,” she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible. “I have been in love with you since I was thirteen years old.”

Paisley dated people about as often as the Olympics came around, and I spent nearly every day with her. How could I not have known about all these— Her declaration finally hit me, and I schooled my features before I could give away my shock.

What. The. Hell did she just say? She what? No—no way. She was my best friend. Nothing more. My mind raced as she took controlled breaths and kept up her f*cked-up confession.

“I’ve kept quiet for twelve years, and I would’ve continued to if I hadn’t met Brett. These last few weeks have been casual, but I know he wants it to be more. But if there is a chance of an us, then there would be absolutely no thoughts of anything else with him.”

This couldn’t be happening to us. She was my best friend. My wingman. She was the only girl I could stand to be around for any period of time other than my sisters, Candice and Rachel. And even those two were pushing it.

“Eli, I need to know.” She exhaled slowly and waited until she held my stare. “Is there any possibility of there being an us?”

I sat there frozen as I replayed everything she’d just said over and over. Waiting, hoping for her to take it all back. As the minutes ticked by, her anxious posture slowly hunched in on itself, and I watched as the hopefulness left her eyes.

Not a joke. This was real.

As the confusion washed through me, my head began shaking back and forth. “You’re my best friend, Paisley,” I nearly whispered. “You’ve always just been my best friend.”

A heavy breath left her when she grasped there was nothing else I would be adding, and for the second time in a week—and the fourth time in a dozen years—I watched Paisley bite down on her bottom lip as her eyes filled with tears.

“Pay . . .” I started reaching across the table, but stopped short. How was I supposed to touch her? How was I supposed to comfort her? How was I supposed to do anything now that I knew how she felt?

She blinked back the tears and it hit me. The bar—her tears. Like I’d done countless times, I’d been using her to make someone else realize I wasn’t interested. I had been touching her, brushing kisses against her neck—oh God. They meant nothing to me . . . but they’d meant something to her.

My head dropped into my hands and my elbows hit the table. If Paisley was in love with me, that changed everything . . . in the worst way possible.

“At the bar.” My voice came out rough, and I tried to clear my throat. “I was the reason you were upset last weekend.” I took her silence as confirmation, and even through my fear of losing my best friend, I hated myself in that moment. “I’m so sorry, Pay.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault—I mean, it’s not like you had any idea.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded wrong.

All of this was wrong.

“I have to go,” she choked out minutes later, and rushed out of the coffee shop.

I was out of my chair and running outside as soon as I heard the door shut. “Paisley,” I called after her, never stopping until I had ahold of her arm and was pulling her close into my chest.

Her body shook beneath my arms, and her head stayed bent as I whispered, “I’m sorry” over and over again. Tilting her head back, I brushed at her wet cheeks. “Pay, please don’t cry . . . it’s killing me to know that I’m the reason behind these tears.”

Paisley’s eyes closed as more tears fell from them, and her jaw trembled as she clenched it tight. When she tried lowering her head again, and I wouldn’t allow the movement, her eyes opened—and they were pleading with me.