The Hot One(45)

“Gee,” Penny interjects, placing her index finger on her temple. “Why would anyone think that?”

Nicole sighs. “And I don’t deny being a practitioner of tough love. But the reality is this—I’m a witness to the hazards, pitfalls, and potholes of dating in this decade, and I’ve seen much more of the bad and the ugly than the good. I don’t want to see Delaney get hurt, and I’m not convinced men can change.”

She peers into the mirror, tugs the bangs down lower, and spins around, showing us her new look.

“But hairstyles can definitely change,” I say. “And you look good as a blonde.”

Penny fiddles with her new fire-engine ’do and meets our gazes in the mirror. “But see, I do think people can change. Maybe it’s because I work with animals, but just hear me out. I’ve seen what adopting a pet can do for a person. How it can soften hearts and change priorities and turn you into someone who loves another creature nearly as unconditionally as that creature loves you.”

I wrap an arm around her shoulders and squeeze. I adore the dog-loving heart of my bestie. “You’re right.”

Nicole tilts her head back and forth, like she’s weighing Penny’s observation. Then she utters a quiet, “That’s true.”

“Why don’t we let Delaney find out for herself?” Penny asks us through the reflection. “Go out with him and see how much he has changed.”

As I adjust a sapphire blue wig, I don’t just marinate on Penny’s questions about Tyler. I turn them back on myself. Sure, I want to know how he’s different, but I already see signs of that. What I also want to know is this—how have I changed?

I’d like to think I’ve changed for the better. I want to believe that my career shift from the sharp edges of law to the more peaceful waves of massage made me a better person. But, did it? A pebble wedges into the corner of my heart. Irritating and completely unpleasant, it’s a reminder that I didn’t tell Tyler the whole truth about my change of heart regarding my career. I didn’t open up fully to him about the phone call with my dad, even though Tyler seemed patently honest with me.

Do I need to share that detail with him? It’s not like I hid something terrible from him.

But even so, I didn’t tell him the full truth at the time, and I haven’t told him now either. I know why I hold back—if I don’t share everything I might not be fully hurt. By keeping parts of myself just for me, I like to think I can guard them from hurt.

I know that’s not true though.

We can’t ever protect ourselves from hurt, from broken hearts, from damaged love.

But we can try to live our lives differently.

If people do change, I sure as hell ought to be looking at myself first. It should start with me.

As I run my fingers through the blue hair, I vow to tell him the full story about why I didn’t go to law school, even if I feel like I’m taking off all my armor with the mere mention of my father’s words—words that had sent my future into a whole new direction.

This chance with Tyler isn’t only a romantic one. It’s an opportunity to face the past and deal with the future.

I raise my chin and stare at my friends. “One week. I’m going to give it a week.”

Penny shrieks and claps. Nicole nods solemnly then drapes her arm around me.

“Group hug,” Nicole says, and we all join in, setting aside our differences and coming together.

They might come at my love life from opposite sides, but in the end I have what any girl wants from her friends—solidarity. Maybe it’s odd, maybe a tad controlling, that my friends have so much say in my love life. But they’re my family, we’re as close as sisters, and I need them in the same bone-deep, always-there-for-me manner. We stick our noses into each other’s lives more than most, but we do it out of love.

Theirs is a love I never worry might leave. That’s why they are my inner circle. That’s why they have my unconditional trust.

“One week,” Nicole echoes. “You have my full support. But you need to decide at the end of the week. If you keep giving him more and more time, then you’re giving him the keys to breaking your heart, and trust me on this—a broken heart the second time around doesn’t just hurt twice as much. The pain is exponentially greater.”

Human beings always have the keys to breaking each other’s hearts. One week, one year, a lifetime—doesn’t matter. We can always hurt the ones we love. Even so, I do understand why she wants me to be wise, and on this time limit, I have to agree with her. “I’ll give it a week.” Then my tone lightens, and I shrug like this is no big deal. “What’s the harm in a week?”

Neither replies, and I hope I don’t answer my own question the hard way.

“We’ll be here no matter what.” Nicole grips my shoulder, then whispers, “Especially if you decide at the end of the week you really want Trevor instead.”

I laugh. “Yeah, about Trevor . . .”

Nicole arches a brow. “What about him?”

I update my friends on the latest as we find a perfect wig for my ex-boyfriend, who’s now jostled his way to the front of the dating pack. I buy the wigs and drop them in a canvas bag, then we head to our Girls’ Night Out, enjoying dancing, drinks, and friendship, as I reflect on whether people can change.