The Rules of Dating My Best Friend's Sister(86)

“You did?” I smiled. “That’s amazing!”

There wasn’t a shred of joy on his face. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

“This might be the opportunity of a lifetime. But if it meant us getting back together, I would turn it down in a heartbeat. I know you never wanted to move out there. And you mean more to me than a job.”

My chest constricted. “You need to take it.”

He hung his head. “I guess I know what that means.”

My voice shook. “I’m so sorry, Warren.”

He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “I can only hope to God that when you come to your senses, you’ll want to join me out there. I’m not giving up hope on us, even knowing you haven’t been honest with me. Even knowing you broke my heart, I still can’t give up on us.”

His words took a moment to register. “You said I haven’t been honest with you. What are you referring to?”

His stare was penetrating. “Was he the reason you left me?”

I gulped. “Who?”

“Holden.”

My mouth opened and closed a few times. “How…”

He stared at the lamp vacantly. “I came to the hospital a few days ago. He was there with you, holding you—when it should’ve been me. You were tucked away in a corner by a vending machine, probably hiding. You likely didn’t know I’d be coming from that direction, but I’d stopped to use the bathroom. You were too wrapped up to notice me.” Warren rubbed his temples. “I left because I wasn’t in the mood to make a fool of myself.”

That tore my heart into a million pieces. “I’m so sorry, Warren. I should’ve told you I’d started seeing him. He’s not the main reason I ended things. It was more about a need to experience life before settling down. But—”

“It just so happens he was right there when you made that decision, I suppose?” Warren stood. “I need to go. I’m late for a meeting.” He walked toward the door but turned around before leaving. “I’m not going to judge you for your choices. He would not be the type of man I’d choose for you. He’s a phase, Laney. And you will come to your senses. I am confident of that. I plan to wait for you to do that, but I don’t know that I can wait forever.”

***

Mentally spent, I arrived back in New York that night feeling terrible about myself. At the same time, I was happy that Warren had gotten the job in California. He deserved a change of pace, in a new environment where every corner wouldn’t remind him of me. That said, his words about Holden being a phase had gotten into my head a little, especially since I’d had ample time alone in my car to let everything fester.

After taking a shower and getting into comfortable clothes, I curled into my sofa and decided to check out After Friday’s Instagram page. There were photos posted of the last couple of gigs, including the one the night Holden returned from Pennsylvania. He’d told me that one went particularly well and that the music exec had told their manager he’d be in touch.

They must have put someone in charge of taking these supposedly candid shots, because they looked fantastic—Monroe making love to the mic, Dylan playing bass with his eyes closed. I particularly loved the shots of Holden swinging his drumsticks under the neon lights. His eyes held so much passion. It made me miss the heck out of him. I would’ve given anything for him to be next door right now.

Almost as soon as I had that thought, my phone began to ring. It was a FaceTime call from Holden. As fast as humanly possible, I answered, “Hey! How did you know I was thinking about you?”

“Are you back in New York?”

“Yes. I got stuck in killer traffic, so I just got back a little while ago.”

“Damn. It’s almost eleven there. That sucks. But I’m so glad you got back safely.”

Holden had mentioned the band would have a tour bus for the last leg of their trip, and I could see he was lying down in a cramped space. His hair was going in all directions. How I wished I could’ve run my hands through it.

“What are you up to tonight?” I asked.

“We have the night off. A couple of the guys are heading out clubbing, but I’m just gonna order a pizza and hang out on the bus and watch movies.”

“Why aren’t you going out with them?”

“Just no interest. I’m wiped, and all I want to do is talk to you.”

“Syphilis!”

I cocked my head. “Did someone just say syphilis?”

“That was Monroe. Ignore him.”

“Chlamydia!”

“Who was that?”

“Dylan.”

“Why did he say that?”

“The guys have a running joke that the reason I’m not into partying is because I have an STD. I’ve told them why I have no interest in hooking up with random women out here, but they’re having too much fun ragging on me. They’re acting up worse right now because they see me on the phone with you. Ignore them, please.”

I laughed. “That’s crazy.”

He suddenly got up and began walking to the back of the bus. “Hang on. I’m going to the bedroom for some privacy.”

Holden lay back on a bed. “Ah. That’s better.” He reached to his side and lifted up a lace thong. “Monroe had a little too much fun in here earlier today.”