Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)(40)

Adrian stood, and his soft fingertips grazed my hand without expectation as we turned to walk back down the beach. I considered grabbing his hand; it would be so easy, so us. Instead, I pretended not to notice and continued drinking my beer; his fingertips courting mine for the rest of the walk.

When we got back to the deck at Finnegan’s I was relieved to see Monica sitting there, out of her house. Sitting there with a suspicious look on her face, but sitting there nonetheless.

“Monica, good to see you!” Adrian approached Monica and as she stood up to hug him, he lifted her and swung her around. She looked far less than impressed.

“Adrian. Boy, you know how to make an entrance,” Monica said flatly.

“Well, ladies, I’m going to head inside for another beer.” He squeezed my fingertips for a split second before ducking inside.

“What the hell was that all about?” Monica regained her seated position.

“Friggen Adrian.” I gulped before telling her about our conversation on the beach.

Monica leaned forward, her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.

“He told you he loved you?!”

“Back then, not now, Monica - relax.”

“No, Em, no man walks on the beach to tell a girl he was ‘just having sex with’ five years ago that he loved her five years ago.” She had a point, and I swallowed it hard.

I wanted Bo to come to the bar; I reached for my cell phone which Monica quickly snatched away.

“Hey, Asshole, what are you doing?”

“You may not call Bo until we address Adrian, Ember,” Monica’s voice was clipped and serious.

“Monica, did I miss something? There’s not anything to discuss.” Nothing I want to discuss.

“Adrian ‘I fool around but love no one’ Turner admitted that he was in love with you. It may have been five years ago, but he’s still got it for you. I saw the way you two were walking back here. It was like you were walking to class all over again.”

I shrugged, but my shoulders suddenly felt heavier. “So what, Monica, I’m not in love with him anymore.”

“How do you know?”

“What the hell are you saying? You know I’m in love with Bo. What’s your deal?” My voice rose. I was pissed.

Monica’s eyes filled with tears. “Look at what just happened with me and Josh. We fell hard and madly in love with each other two years ago and now - nothing. Josh says I might not be his core-shaker. Ember, I know that Bo told Josh that he feels like he’s known you for a thousand lifetimes, and I know that right now you feel that way too - but is it the smart choice?”

Her words tripped me. Monica was telling me to think about love, to think about my feelings for Bo. I’d spent the last week riding the waves of feeling and emotion, playing my friggen guitar on the beach, and now my best friend was telling me to use my head. Hurt splashed across my face.

“Look, I’m sorry, but if you want to be sure about Bo, don’t you think you ought to be sure about Adrian first?” The words seemed to pain her as she spoke them.

“What the hell? You said that you’ve never seen me happier. I’m singing more, playing the guitar, I whispered to Bo that I loved him as he slept. I’m in love with him Monica and it supersedes any feelings of love I ever thought I had for Adrian. We made sense on paper five years ago, with our intellect and our ambitions. But that was it, just stats. I don’t really see how that translates to right now.” I stood up and huffed to the door.

“Em! Wait!” Monica followed me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doling out relationship advice when I’m still hurting. You’re right. I haven’t ever seen you so happy. I just-”

“It’s too late, Mon, you’re already up here,” I said as I tapped my head.

As I stormed through the door, my knees nearly gave out at the sight of Bo and Adrian at the bar, drinking and chatting with Josh. All three of them looked up at Monica and me at the same time, a mix of emotions splayed across their faces. I looked back at Monica, who’s eyes amplified in a “what are we going to do?” sort of way. I grabbed her hand and headed for the far exit; quickly stomping out any residual anger I had toward her.

“We’re going to Lost Dog and we’re going to get drunk,” I said, loud enough for at least Josh to hear.

She smiled like she’d just won the lottery. We breezed past the three men who sat there with dumbfounded looks on their faces, each for their own reason.





Chapter Thirteen

One finds themselves at Lost Dog in only the direst of situations. It’s dark and more than a little dingy, but the liquor is cheap and flowing; exactly what Monica and I needed.

I was mad. Mad at Bo for our pseudo star-crossed situation, mad at Adrian for showing up; really I was mad at Adrian for being involved at all. I was mad at Josh for breaking Monica’s heart, mad that Monica made me think about what feelings I might have for Adrian, and mad that I wanted to run away with Bo and play the guitar on every beach in America.

“Do you think they’ll follow us?” Monica sounded breathless, as if we were in an action movie.

“Who the hell cares? We’ve had a century’s worth of shitty days between the two of us this week.” We took my car to get there faster and we were at LD, as we called it, in less than two minutes.