Much Ado About You(36)

Now it was certain.

“Greer?”

She cleared her throat, and then her words came out tight, as though she were clenching her teeth. “How is that possible?”

Quietly, as though I were afraid a loud tone would spook her, I explained Penny’s situation, her proposition, and the arrival of my work visa.

More silence followed the explanation.

“Greer?”

“I knew it,” she replied sadly. “I knew you would go there and not come back. I just felt it in my gut.”

Guilt that I was hurting her, worrying her, made me flinch. “Oh, Greer, that’s not true. It’s just these past four weeks flew, just like a vacation, and I didn’t have time to figure anything out. Now I have three months to do that, and I am certain I’ll know what my next step is going to be when I get back to Chicago.”

“Yeah but you might decide Chicago isn’t your next step.” She huffed. “And please don’t tell me your decision to stay has nothing to do with the hot farmer.”

“It doesn’t,” I snapped.

It didn’t.

Not really.

Not like that.

I’d posted an Instagram photo of Roane holding an impressive pair of melons to his chest beside a fruit stall at Alnwick Markets last week, with the caption “Some people are just blessed by nature’s bounty ;)”

Almost as soon as I’d posted that photo, I was inundated with comments from friends. Who was the mysterious hottie, and what was he to me? Mostly I ignored the comments, but I couldn’t ignore Greer’s phone call later that day.

I’d explained who Roane was and that we were just friends.

I thought she’d bought it.

Not that there was anything to buy. We were just friends. Even though he constantly flirted with me and was generally making every day harder to resist the temptation he presented.

“Oh, please.” I could practically hear the curl in Greer’s upper lip. “You went to England to get some distance from your life, met a gorgeous guy, and are allowing your vagina to dictate the next three months.”

For a moment I couldn’t speak. I was hardly ever on the end of Greer’s sharp tongue, but I knew she had one. She used it to eviscerate lazy colleagues at her design firm. Greer was a UX designer, specializing in the design of digital products like websites and apps. We’d shared the experience of working in a male-dominated office, and Greer had decided that to be seen, heard, and respected she’d be the resident ballbuster.

It worked for her.

I just never thought it would be directed at me one day.

The urge to snap back was great, but I reminded myself my best friend was pregnant. Shouting at your pregnant best friend was not cool.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” I kept my voice gentle, calm. “This is about me. What I want.”

“Then tell me this guy hasn’t got something to do with you wanting to stay?”

“You know not everything has to be about a guy, but if you want the truth, yes, he factored into the decision but not the way you think. We’re friends.” My chest ached whenever I thought of Roane. “And not just acquaintance friends or good friends but friends like you and I are friends. We connected immediately in a way I can’t explain. So, yes, part of staying for a little longer is so I can have more time with him.”

“Are you listening to yourself? Are you deliberately deluding yourself? A heterosexual man and woman cannot have that kind of connection and it not turn sexual. Are you saying there isn’t even a tiny bit of you that’s attracted to this guy?”

“So what if there is?” I snapped, forgetting my vow not to argue with her. “I’m not going to do anything about it. I didn’t come here for that. I came here because I was so goddamn lonely in Chicago, I couldn’t bear it, and until I figure out why that was, I’m staying here.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I squeezed my eyes closed in regret.

This time I wasn’t surprised by Greer’s silence.

“I didn’t mean that,” I whispered.

“Yeah, you did. And it breaks my heart that I didn’t know that.” She released a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m . . . just sad that you’ll miss out on most of my pregnancy, which is selfish. We’re all following your Instagram here and you . . . God, you look so happy over there. I’m just worried. I miss my best friend.”

Tears stung my eyes. “You don’t think I miss you? You were the only thing holding me back from making this decision, and I feel selfish as hell for staying here while you’re pregnant.”

“Don’t. I was a snippy bitch before. Don’t feel guilty about this, Evie. This is your life, and what you said before you left is true. Your friends can’t stand still for you, but you can’t be our sidekick as our lives move forward. I don’t want you to be lonely,” she sniffled. “It kills me that you were lonely here.”

The tears that had been threatening let loose.

“You’re not lonely there, are you?”

“No.” I wiped at my cheeks, a small, fond smile softening my lips. “I’m not lonely here. It’s not like Chicago. This is a small village, Greer. Even when you’re single, you’re surrounded by friends. We meet at the pub almost every night and keep each other company. It’s nice.”