Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(8)

“Did you not just hear me? I want her to find someone, I just don’t want her to waste her time—”

“She’s your best friend, Eli, you’re never going to be okay with any of the guys. I know I’ve only known you a couple years, but I’ve heard enough stories from Kristen to know you have never let a relationship of hers last. You’ve found a way to end it.”

My eyes narrowed and I locked my jaw as I calmed myself. “Bullshit.”

“Can you name any guy she dated where you didn’t have a hand in ending that relationship?”

No. “She barely dates!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Exactly.”

I laughed agitatedly. “Whatever. I’m not stopping her from doing shit.”

“Maybe you just don’t realize it. But I know this, she’s about to be twenty-five. From conversations I’ve heard between her and my wife, she’s ready to settle down and get married. Whenever she’s out somewhere and you’re with her—which is always—the only time you’re not scaring guys away from her is when you’re too distracted by the girls you’re about to take home to f*ck.”

“I don’t scare guys away from her.”

“You pull her close to your side and leave your arm around her whenever they start walking toward her!”

And? “She really wants to get married?”

Jason’s face looked like he couldn’t understand how I didn’t know that. “Yeah.”

Paisley get married? But then . . . “Damn it, I’m not ready to lose my wingman . . .”

“You’re gonna lose a lot more than just your wingman,” he grumbled, and I raised my eyebrows at him. “You really think the two of you are still going to have your Sunday mornings when she’s married? You think you’ll be sleeping in her bed, or vice versa, once she starts seriously dating someone and gets engaged?”

I didn’t say anything; I just sat there with my narrowed eyes directed at him.

“No, man, you’re not. Not only will her boyfriend . . . fiancé . . . husband, whatever, not be okay with that; she’ll no longer be okay with that. Because the main guy in her life isn’t going to be you anymore.”

My gaze dropped to the table, but I wasn’t seeing anything. There was an uneasy, hollow feeling in my chest as those words replayed in my mind. The main guy in her life isn’t going to be you. . .

“You’re not going to lose just your wingman, you’re gonna lose your best friend when some other guy realizes how amazing that girl is.”

Now that . . . I definitely wasn’t ready for that.

August 10, 2013

Paisley

“I’LL TEXT YOU her number later,” I groaned, but threw in a soft laugh at the end for his benefit.

“Where are you going again?”

“Oh my God, Eli, for the fiftieth time . . . I’m going to a bonfire with a bunch of my cousins and their friends.”

“And you didn’t invite me?”

I stopped walking and just stood there staring off at the ocean. “Talking to you is like talking to a child, Eli Jenkins! You’ve asked that in that exact same wounded voice every time I’ve told you what I’m doing today. And for the last time, I didn’t invite you because the last time you saw my cousins you pulled a Will Ferrell . . . except it worked.”

“It’s not my fault your cousins were wasted and actually thought we were going streaking, and ended up getting busted by the cops.”

“Well, that’s not how they feel about it.” I moved the phone away from my face so he wouldn’t hear me laughing. When I’d composed myself again, I let out a long, annoyed sigh. “The things I do for you. I’ll text you her number as soon as we get off the phone, okay?”

“You’re the best, Pay!”

“I know. Have a good night, don’t tell me the details.”

He huffed. “See you tomorrow morning?”

“As long as she’s not still in your apartment, I’ll be there with breakfast.”

“She’ll be gone. See you then.”

Ending the call, I bit down on the inside of my cheek and tried to ignore another fraction of my heart being broken off by him as I texted him my friend’s number.

“You’re welcome,” I mumbled.

Telling myself to not think about them together, and to have a good time tonight, I blew out a hard breath and walked down the beach to meet up with everyone. I breathed in the smell of the bonfire and felt myself already relaxing—there was nothing a good bonfire couldn’t make better.

“Little Paisley!”

I made a face at my cousin Michael, who was only a month older than me, but still almost a foot and a half taller. He launched himself at me, and I burst into a fit of giggles when he swung me up in his arms and turned us in really tight circles.

“I’m gonna be sick, stop!” I shrieked through my laughter, but thankfully he took it as a serious threat.

“Did you get shorter?”

My eyebrows pinched together and I tried to look behind his head. “Are you—is that—are you going bald?”

His expression deadpanned and I grinned wryly at him. “That shit’s not funny.”

“I thought it was.”