Listen to Your Heart(11)

Confusion flashes across his face. “I thought you took her to some club to listen to music?”

“I did.”

“And there was food?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Did you dance?”

“Yeah.”

Okay, so maybe it was a date. I haven’t been on one in so long that I obviously have no frame of reference.

“Did you kiss her?”

I shake my head. I have a lot of regrets about last night, but that’s not one of them. I’m already on the brink of madness. Imagine if I’d actually kissed the girl.

Eli grins. “Did you want to?”

A ringtone interrupts my pint-size interrogator. Eli reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone that’s fancier than mine.

“It’s from my dad,” he says quietly. “He has to work late. Aunt Skye’s picking me up.”

Skye’s picking him up. It’s disgusting how happy those words make me, but I can’t pretend that seeing her won’t make my shitty day infinitely better. I want to see her. I want to hear her voice.

That’s your problem, Lynch. You want it all, and you can’t have it.

At six o’clock, I dismiss the class and hold my breath, watching the door like a hawk as parents stream in and out of the room to pick up their kids. I know it’s greedy, but I don’t need much. Just a glimpse of her long red hair or piercing green eyes will be enough.

But five minutes later, Eli receives another text.

“Aunt Skye’s waiting for me out front. See ya, Caleb.”

My heart sinks. She’s not coming in.

Eli gives me a wave before grabbing his guitar and walking out the door.



“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I mutter to myself as the elevator doors close behind me. I roughly smack the button and lean my head against the cool steel wall, trying desperately to get a grip on my emotions.

You can’t let her see you like this.

The elevator doors fly open, and I slowly walk toward our apartment. When I step inside, I’m not surprised to find the living room in total darkness. We rarely spend time in here. I’m always in my room, and she’s in hers. And we live in perfect harmony because of it.

“I thought I heard you come in.”

I look up to find my best friend standing in her bedroom doorway.

“Hey, Jules.”

“What’s wrong?”

She knows me so well.

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you. Come talk to me while I finish packing. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you before I headed to the airport.”

I follow her to the bedroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. “Airport?”

“I have a conference in Albuquerque and then a photo shoot in Dallas, remember?”

I do now.

“Oh yeah. How long are you going to be gone?”

“Three weeks,” she says with a grin. “Honestly, Caleb, you never listen to me.”

“Sorry.”

The apology’s sincere. I’m sorry for so much, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about any of it.

Jules zips the last of her suitcases and places it with the others at the door before sitting down next to me.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re the worst liar ever, Caleb Lynch. How long have we known each other?”

“Six years.”

“Exactly. Talk to me.”

I take a deep breath and gaze at the woman who’s been my best friend since our freshman year at Belmont. Juliana and I met in the university bookstore on the first day of classes. I thought she was cute with her black ponytail and her Nikon camera hanging from her neck, but it only took one bad date to convince us we were better off as friends.

“You’re my best friend, Jules.”

“You’re my best friend, too.”

“You know I love you, right?”

Her face softens and she leans her head against my shoulder. “Of course I do. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Lord knows you’ve gone above and beyond the call of friendship these past few months. What you’re doing for me and my family . . .”

“Shh.” I kiss her forehead. The last thing I want to do is make her feel guilty. I made my choice. “It’s okay, honestly. What time does your flight leave?”

She sighs and looks down at her watch. “Soon. I’ve already called a taxi.”

“I could drive you. That’s an awful lot of luggage.”

“I’ll manage. Maybe flirt with the cab driver or something.”

I chuckle.

Juliana takes a deep breath. “Caleb, I know you don’t like talking about the wedding, but there are some things I need you to handle while I’m gone.”

I bite back a groan. My presence had been required at the first consultation, but since then, I’d been spared any and all discussions about this farce of a wedding. Apparently, my luck was about to run out.

“What do I need to do?”

“Nothing too serious. I just need you and the groomsmen to go in for your fittings.”

I nod. That doesn’t sound too bad.

“And I need you or Mom to approve the invitation. Please check the names. God help us if they misspell Martinez.”