Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(88)
I smile genuine gratitude and appreciation for how he’s handling this — like a gentleman.
“That, you did,” Nathan chuckles.
My head nods in agreement. “Chris is a wonderful guy, ladies. Don’t get me wrong,” I mention. “But, I’m not the right woman for him. We’re just friends.”
“We are friends,” Chris repeats, tugging at my shoulder. “Sadly, I’m not the right guy for her.” Chris looks to the camera. “And, to the one who does capture her heart, wherever he may be . . . congratulations.” Chris looks back to me. “You’re a very . . . lucky . . . man.”
Sweat gathers in my palms at Chris’ last statement. Too many emotions tornado through me and none of them are for him — what is happening to me?
“So,” Jared jumps in. “I think that’s about it with what we’re willing to share for right now.” He looks to everyone and we all nod our approval. “With that said . . . thank you for all of your questions and comments. Thank you for your love and support, and thank you for joining us tonight! We’ll see you soon.”
“Goodbye,” the four of them say several times, overlapping on occasion and waving to the camera.
“See you next time,” I bid, waving also.
As soon as the cameras are off, all of our phones are buzzing from our friends trying to reach us. Maggie and Henry are calling Jared, Joe is calling me, Denise is calling Nathan and Chris’ agent is calling him. We get a final viewer count of nine point one million viewers watching our live stream.
The video views continue to escalate into the night and the main news channels are already featuring and commenting on our statements as we turn on the television and every computer around us.
For the rest of the night, after Chris and the crew leave, my family and I entertain ourselves with drinks and games into the evening. I stay the night, wanting to hide from the world for a few more hours. When I slip under the covers for bed, I push the button to video chat with Joe. He answers quickly, excited to finally see me. He commends me and the group on how we handled the subjects and apologizes again about sneaking around with Jared to purchase cars for me. He updates me on the facility and asks when I’ll be home. Joe perks up when I inform him that I’ll be returning to Pasadena tomorrow and will be going to Maggie’s and Henry’s for a barbecue on Saturday.
Eighty
“What’s the theme this year?” Maggie asks, taking a sip of lemonade.
“Steampunk,” I announce, swallowing my last bite of strawberry.
“Ooo, that’s going to be fun!” Nathan shouts.
“Shouldn’t Henry get to choose this year?” Maggie asks after stuffing her mouth with watermelon.
“This is my year to pick our Halloween costume theme,” I remind defensively.
“But, he’s added to the mix now too,” Maggie challenges.
“You can give up your year to add him,” I rebut, not willing to have someone else pick.
I love dressing up for Halloween and I’ve been dying for it to be my year to choose. Each year, the four of us rotate on themes, each getting a turn to pick for the last five years. We drew our names from a hat to fairly devise the order of picking — I got the second year. This is my year.
“Emma,” Maggie scolds.
“Sharing is caring,” Nathan comments teasingly.
“Well, I don’t care,” I announce.
Jared laughs.
“Why don’t we put it to a vote,” Maggie suggests.
“There is no voting in the way we do it,” I argue. “This is my year. I’ve been waiting three years. I had to suffer through Playboy bunnies, Bollywood and then pirates.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Bollywood,” Maggie defends.
“The costumes you got were like paper thin and it was cold,” I object.
“We still looked hot,” she counters.
Snickering, Nathan adds, “Hot enough for men and women to hit on you both when they saw your nipples poking through.” Nathan demonstrates with his hands.
“I was going to suggest superheroes,” Joe comments with a chuckle, looking directly at me.
Everyone laughs but me.
“That’s not funny,” I say.
“Yeah, it was,” Nathan comments.
“Well, good thing you don’t get a turn,” I state, looking at Joe.
“Why not?” he questions.
“Yeah,” Nathan chimes in. “Joe’s one of us too. He’s should be allowed to pick.”
“He’s not dating anyone here,” I rebut. “Therefore, he doesn’t get to pick.”
“Well, you aren’t dating anyone here,” Maggie challenges. “So, you shouldn’t get to pick either.”
“Excuse me?” I check.
“If you’re going to limit it to people who are dating, then you and Joe don’t get to pick,” Maggie states very calmly. “Unless . . . you two want to date.” She points her fingers back and forth between Joe and me.
“That’s not how we do it,” I press.
“Well, maybe it’s time we change things up a bit,” Maggie announces playfully.
“Why don’t we let Emma pick this year. It is her year, and next year we’ll start with Henry or Joe picking,” Jared suggests.