Once Upon a Sure Thing (Heartbreakers #2)(49)

Maybe I should be a robot. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with stupid things like lust, and what it can sometimes lead to.

Love.

A love that I don’t know what to do with.

As I head to the elevator, I say hi to Meg at the reception desk as she packs up for the break.

“Happy holidays, Meg.”

“And to you too, Ally.” She wraps a scarf around her neck. “By the way, who sent you that gift the other day?”

“Just a friend.”

Who I love madly.

Meg arches a brow from behind her big glasses. “The guy you’ve been singing with?”

“Yep.”

She laughs to herself. “Girl, he doesn’t look at you like a friend.”

I try to laugh it off, like this is a performance and I must be convincing. “Oh, the videos are just us performing. We’re really only friends.”

My stomach twists saying that out loud because I wish I were lying. I wish we were so much more than friends.

She shakes her head. “I’m not talking about the videos. I’m talking about the way he looks at you when he’s here.”

I step closer to her, intrigued. “How does he look at me?”

“Like he wants to find you under his Christmas tree.”

That image tugs at my heart and, inconveniently, at my loins too.

“And like he wants to keep you,” she adds.

My heart crawls up my throat. That’s such a crazy thought that I have to dismiss it.

I give a small shake of my head. “See you in the New Year, Meg.” As I press the button for the elevator, I check my email to distract myself.

A new message from Angie at Butler Press sits at the top of my inbox.



Thank you so much for coming in yesterday. The file sounds fantastic, and it’s a wrap! Keep your fingers crossed, but I think we might have something new and exciting for you in the New Year.



I tuck my phone into my purse and cross my fingers for a moment.

This email is the reminder that I needed to keep my focus on work, on shoring up my business and planning for the future.

That’s how I’ll get through my gig with Miller this week, and that’s how I’ll get through . . . everything.

Even though Miller is how I’ve gotten through everything else that’s come before.



*

When I arrive in Brooklyn, I haven’t done anything but think about how it felt to be in Miller’s arms last night, the way he kissed me, and all his sweet and tender words and gestures.

Foolish heart.

It’s a heavy heart too, an anchor in my chest weighing me down.

Must focus on something else.

As I walk to Kirby’s home, I catalog his neighborhood—the pickle shops, the organic dry cleaner, the parents carrying babies on their chests.

The trick works momentarily.

When I reach his house, Kirby tells me Macy and Chloe are on their way back from the park, and the baby’s sleeping.

“Tell me stuff. Are you excited for the move?” I ask in the most chipper tone I can muster as I flop onto his couch amid the packed boxes.

“Definitely. It’s going to be a great opportunity.” He tilts his head, studying me. “Um, you don’t look so hot today.”

I slump against the cushions. Leave it to a brother to see through your armor. I could tap-dance around his observation, but I’ve sung and danced all day, and it’s exhausting. “I don’t feel so hot.”

“What’s wrong?” He sits next to me, a worried crease on his forehead.

A sob—the one I’ve been holding in since the morning— works its way up my throat. I choke out the truth. “I’m an idiot. I went and fell in love with my best friend.” The tears escape, and Kirby wraps an arm around me and shushes me.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not going to be okay. We’re not you and Macy.”

He shoots me a quizzical stare. “Why can’t you be Macy and me?”

“Because you guys are the exception. Falling for your friend doesn’t usually work out this well,” I say, gesturing to the house, to the life he shares with Macy. “Miller’s the best friend I’ve ever had, but he’s not the type of guy who wants to get serious.”

Kirby clears his throat, scoffing at me. “He’s not?”

“He’s not,” I insist, hiccupping.

He scratches his jaw. “Didn’t he come with you this morning to bring Chloe here?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t he help you with Chloe’s school projects?”

“Yes,” I answer, wondering where he’s going with his questions.

“Don’t you go to his house, and have dinner with his family, and hang out with his brothers and their friends?”

“But that’s because we’re best friends. Of course we do that stuff.”

He shoots me a look. “Seriously, Ally?”

I toss my hands up. “Yes, seriously. That’s normal friends stuff. That’s what I don’t want to lose.”

Doesn’t he get it? I want to keep Miller in my life, and friend Miller is better than no Miller.

Kirby arches a brow. “I think it’s something more. Something deeper. Honestly, I’ve always thought there was a spark between you two.”