Can I Come Over?(23)

He did? I tapped my fingers against the desk as she paused again.

“I will never judge you for dating Dane, sweetheart,” she said. “Especially given the way that you two met, but even if it were different, I wouldn’t dare. I’ve always thought he was quite attractive, and he clearly cares about you if he was thoughtful enough to call both of us. Your bastard father will come around eventually, so don’t worry about it, okay? You do you.”

“Now that that’s out of the way…” She cleared her throat. “Can you believe that Eliza posted a picture of their latest baby when he was fresh out of her overused womb? She didn’t even wait for the nurses to clean him up! How starved for attention and—”

I stopped the message, calling Daniella next.

“About time that you called me!” she answered on the first ring. “I was getting worried that I might have to fly up there for all the details. Well, after I raided your kitchen for food, I mean. Just as a heads up, you’re out of frozen pizza and box wine.”

I laughed for the first time all day. “Noted.”

“How are you? Is Dane with you now?”

“I’m fine, but no. There are a lot of things we have to catch up on, but I’d rather discuss them in person. I’ll be home around midnight via red-eye. Can you make sure that both of my coffeemakers are set to come on in the morning, before you leave?”

“Of course.” She paused. “Are you sure that you’re okay? You sound really dry and hopeless all of a sudden.”

“I’m just torn the fuck apart,” I said, my voice cracked. “I’ll tell you everything the second I see you, I promise.”

“You better. Text me whenever you make it to the airport.”

“Will do.” I ended the call and debated whether I wanted to return my father’s calls now, or wait until I was on Daniella’s couch so I could save time rehashing this week.

I hit call before I could think about it for another second.

“Christina,” he answered immediately, and his face appeared on my screen. “Look. I need five minutes to finish telling you what I wanted to say.”

I said nothing. I just waited.

“I’m sorry for assuming the worst when it came to you and Dane, but whether you like it or not, your best interests will always come first before any of my fucking friends. Do you understand me?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He paused. “I can’t stop you from dating him, and I won’t stand in your way, but should you two choose to be together, it’ll definitely take me some time to accept this.”

He spoke again before I could interrupt. “He’s never been a bad guy to the women he chose to date seriously,” he said. “But I want you to think about where you see your life five to ten years from now. If he’s in the frame, fine. If not, end it now.”

I swallowed.

I did see Dane in the frame; I’d seen him there long before we met in person. Only in an ‘I’ll keep sending him letters’ way, of course, but he was always there as my friend.

“You never had any serious boyfriends when you were living with me, but the advice I would’ve given you then still stands right now.” His voice trailed off for a few seconds. “Don’t chase him, ever, and make sure that he always goes the extra mile for you. If he ever hurts you in the slightest way, let me know, so I can hire a hitman to kill him.”

I waited for him to laugh, but he didn’t.

“I love you, Christina,” he said. “Despite the distance and the fact that we don’t talk as much as we should, that’ll never change.”

“I love you, too.”

“Will you text me when you make it home?”

“Promise.”

“Good.”

Silence stretched over the line for several seconds He shattered it with one last, “I love you very much, Christina,” before ending the call.

Holding back tears, I washed my face in the bathroom and grabbed the handle of my luggage. I’d rather spend the next hour waiting in the lobby for Dane instead of staring at the walls in my room.

When I made it to the checkout line, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Text message from Dane: Something came up at work, and I won’t be able to pick you up/take you to the airport. I’ve arranged for a town car to get you. He’s waiting outside whenever you’re ready.

Text message from Me: Are you still planning to meet me at the terminal for coffee before take-off? I’ll hold off on going through security, if so.

Text message from Dane: No. Have a safe flight.

What the hell?

I waited to see if he would send me a longer reply with an explanation, but ten minutes passed, and he never did.

I rolled my suitcase outside and spotted a suited guy standing outside of a sleek, black SUV. My name was scrawled onto his mini whiteboard, under the words, “Sorry that I couldn’t drive you personally—Dane.”

The driver opened the door and waited for me to settle onto the seat before putting away my luggage.

As the car coasted through the streets, my mind raced with thoughts on what could make Dane cancel all of a sudden. Not wanting to spend too much time thinking about it, I scrolled down to his name and hit call.

It rang once. It rang twice.