The Rules of Dating My Best Friend's Sister(57)

Holden caught my eyes one more time. “But I’ll let you know if I think of any restaurants. Have a good night.”

Once I closed the door, I told Warren I needed to use the bathroom so I could buy myself a little time to clear my head. But I could probably have stayed in there for days and still felt like a jumbled mess. After I came out, I went straight to the wine, poured a glass to the brim, and drank. I didn’t realize how much I’d gulped back until Warren’s eyes zoned in on the nearly empty glass.

“I was really thirsty,” I said.

“I can see that. Although water quenches thirst better than alcohol. That stuff will only dehydrate you more.”

“Right…of course.” I refilled my glass. “I’ll take this one a little slower. Would you like a refill?”

Warren gestured to the glass I’d poured him a half hour ago. “I’ve barely had a sip.”

I’d been feeling awkward ever since I opened the door to find Warren on the other side a few hours ago, but suddenly I didn’t even know how to act.

Did I sit down?

What should I say?

Was he looking at me funny?

Warren rubbed his lip with his thumb. “What does that guy do for a living again?”

I immediately felt defensive. Maybe it was the use of “that guy” when I knew he knew his name. “Holden plays in a band called After Friday. He’s also the building super.”

“Pushing thirty is a little old to be holding on to the hope of becoming a rock star, isn’t it?”

“Holden’s a very talented drummer. Just because he hasn’t made it big yet doesn’t mean he doesn’t have what it takes. So much of the creative arts is about right time, right place.”

“But when do you call it quits? Thirty? Forty? Sixty? We all have to grow up sometime.”

“Are you saying Holden isn’t a grown-up because he does something he loves? Not everyone is willing to give up their happiness for a job that pays better or has a more structured schedule. I think you’re forgetting that Holden, and all of the guys who own this building, experienced something that taught them a valuable lesson: Life is short. Don’t waste it on things that aren’t worth your time.”

Warren’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how Ryan’s death might’ve affected them.”

I blew out a breath and shook my head. “It’s fine. I’m sorry if I got a little snippy. I’m tired, and you know how I get when I don’t get my sleep.”

He reached out and stroked my cheek. “Why don’t we go to bed? I’m tired too. I went into the lab early this morning so I could get a jump on traffic this afternoon.”

Warren and I hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, so I suspected we wouldn’t be going to sleep once we went to bed. And I wasn’t in the right headspace for fooling around at the moment. So I told a little white lie. Or should I say another one…

“I need to get a few things done for work by the morning. I didn’t know you were coming, so I left some of my tasks to finish at home. But why don’t you go relax and watch some TV in bed, and I’ll join you as soon as I’m done?”

Warren frowned. “Okay. Hopefully you won’t be too long?”

I attempted a smile. “I’ll try to hurry.”

Not wanting to get caught in my lie, I did work on an Excel spreadsheet I’d been avoiding. Entering data and creating graphs were my least favorite parts of running research trials, yet I picked them over fooling around with my fiancé. After forty-five minutes or so, the numbers on my laptop started to blur, so I tiptoed to the door of the bedroom to see if I could hear Warren moving around. I exhaled a huge breath when I heard his gentle snore.

It might’ve been safe to go to bed, yet I still felt wired by the evening’s turn of events—first Warren surprising me and then Holden showing up at my door. So I poured myself another glass of wine and tried to unwind, but my mind kept wandering to the man next door. I couldn’t stop replaying the hurt on his face when he’d seen Warren. Worse, he thought I’d told Warren all about what a womanizer he was. Unable to shake the thoughts from my head even with the help of more wine, I took out my phone and scrolled through TikTok. Normally when I was stressing about something, I could scroll through one of the gazillion dogs hashtags and find some adorable lab who let a pet duck ride on his head to change my mood. But tonight, in between every video, I looked up at the window that led to the fire escape.

I couldn’t…

A basset hound running around with sunglasses on.

I shouldn’t…

A goldendoodle eating dinner in a highchair like a child.

What if I just went out for five minutes…

A boxer who can play piano.

Warren would never even have to know…

A sheepdog who uses his teeth to pull the covers up for a sleeping child.

I could be quiet…

I picked up the almost empty magnum of wine and guzzled the last of it straight from the bottle. Fuck it. I’m doing it. I’m going out there.

Double checking at the bedroom door that Warren was still snoring, I quietly pried open the window and climbed onto the fire escape.

Each and every time I’d come out here, Holden was either already here or had joined me pretty soon after. So I waited.