Friction(78)

When Naomi mentions that, while she hadn’t been able to get in touch with Tom, both EXtreme and WLC had incredible things to say about me, I’m floored. So, as I sit in the bathtub soaking after a long workout, I text Jace to thank him.

Because it can’t hurt any worse than it already does.

At first, I don’t think he’ll respond back. My text history shows that he read it almost immediately, just like all the others I’ve sent. But just as I drain the water, preparing to shower off, a new alert startles me. I sit in the bathtub for a long time, letting the water disappear, and not caring as I read and re-read his text.

7:32 PM: You’re welcome, Williams. I’m sorry it didn’t work out here. Thank you for what you did with Bailon. I mean it.

Finally, the tears start again.

And this time, they don’t stop so easily.



To celebrate my new job before I start on Monday, I go out to drinks with Jamie at the end of the week. “You're drinking tequila tonight,” she points out waggling her eyebrows at the full shot glass on the bar counter. “Let me guess, you’ve been researching test groups and spending all your time working before you actually start working is wearing you out.”

“I haven’t been researching test groups, thank you very much.” That will come in a few months, and to be honest, I’m anticipating women’s positive reactions to Naomi’s product. The sports bra she gifted me at my interview is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slipped into. “I figured I would do something besides my usual mojito. Besides, you drink tequila every time we go out.”

“But you don’t,” she says, her gaze leaving mine for just a moment to follow a guy with the face and body of a Greek god as he walks by. He’s wearing a leather jacket and there are tattoos covering his neck. When she checks out his ass and releases a low whistle, I cock my eyebrows.

“And speaking of trying something besides the usual…” I say, earning a shrug from my best friend. “Changing your type from lab coats and business suits?”

“Not changing my type, per se, but expanding my options.”

“You never did tell me what Mr. B said to you in his office.” I’d tried to remember his exact words once I was in my car—to run them through Google Translate—but that was a bust. “Care to share?”

“Nope.” Flushing, she grabs my shot and tosses it back, ignoring my dark glare. “I’ll be thirty in two years, Luce.”

“Now who’s changing the subject. By the way, you owe me a drink and—” I start, but my phone begins vibrating on the counter beside my empty glass. I consider powering it off, but since my mother worries so much, I pick it up to make sure she isn’t checking up on me, even though she’s supposed to be on a date with her friend tonight. My heart slams to a stop when I see another number that I know like the back of my hand.

Jace.

9:18 PM: Do you have a few minutes tonight? To talk in person?

I stare at the words on the screen until my vision blurs and I feel thin fingers on my shoulder shaking me back to reality. I meet Jamie’s concerned stare and swallow hard. “Are you okay?”

I return my phone to the counter and face her with a numb expression. “Jace just texted me.”

Her brown eyes bulge. “Wait, what?”

“Jace just texted asking if he can see me.”

“Then text him back.”

I shake my head, running my hand over my face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Are you kidding me, Luce? You tell him that you’re sorry. You tell him that you fucked up. You tell him that you’re pissed off he didn’t have the decency to listen to you when you tried to apologize to him. Hell, you can tell him that you love him, but message him back.”

The laughter that bubbles from my chest is borderline hysterical. “What if he just shoots all that down?”

“Then at least you can say you tried.”





Thirty-One





Lucy





I tell Jace that I have already drank too much and I’ll meet with him when I don’t require an Uber driver to make it back, so he immediately asks where I am. Twenty minutes after I tell him, the breath leaves my lungs when I smell the spicy, delicious scent that has invaded my thoughts too often for the last several days.

“Jamie,” he says with a nod as she gapes at him. He lowers steely blue eyes to mine, and my chest contracts because they’re not hard and angry like I expected. “Lucy.”

“I didn’t think you were coming here,” I squeak, and he allows a half-smirk to cross his features.

“I wanted to talk.” He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and slides a hundred dollar bill onto the bar before glancing at Jamie. “Would you mind if—”

“Take her,” she blurts out, and I cringe. God, she’s not subtle at all. Grinning sheepishly, she tilts her curly head to one side and tries to smoothly add, “I mean, I have other plans tonight, so I promise it’s fine.”

“Perfect.”

My nerve endings tingle violently as he leads me out to his Challenger, and once I’m beside him in the passenger’s seat, I finally find my voice so I can ask, “Where are we going?”