The Feel Good Factor(60)

When I find Hunter at the ambulance, his face is tense. “What’s the 411?”

“She’s gone,” I say, gritting my teeth.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me too.”

Even though she has nothing to do with me. I don’t know her from Eve. But this loss is shoving its way under my ribs and setting up camp in my chest.

Battered and bruised when I leave at the end of the shift, I mutter a toneless good night to Hunter before I hop on my bike and head home as the sun rises.

Only, I don’t want to go home. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.

All I want is to see Perri, talk to her, tell her about my day, and then get lost in each other and forget what went down for me and what went down for her. Just be there for each other through the shitty times.

Curl up with my woman, get close to her, and reconnect to the living, to everything that makes us keep going in these jobs that can drain us dry.

I want to smell her hair, kiss her skin, and feel like she’s my reason.

But there’s a big fat problem. She’s not my woman. She doesn’t want me to be her man.

I drive past her house. It’s hers, not mine. I head to see Jodie.





34





Perri





“You’re going to get another shot at another promotion,” Arden says, encouraging me in the way only she and Vanessa can. “I know it.”

We’re sequestered in the back booth of Helen’s Diner, away from the handful of others here at this early hour. “You’re right,” I admit, wiping away the last tear I’m going to let fall.

“It sucks that this one didn’t happen. But there might be politics or who knows what involved,” Vanessa adds. “Look, I run my own business. So does Arden. The reality is there are a million things that go into these decisions, and sometimes we make the right ones as bosses and sometimes we make the wrong ones. And sometimes things just happen in their own time.”

I nod, my heart rate settling, my self-loathing dissipating. Vanessa makes a good point. The reality is, I’m good at my job. I simply didn’t get this promotion because—I didn’t get it. Not because of Derek, and not because I was distracted. I wasn’t distracted at work. Someone else earned the job. I take a deep breath. “It’s silly to get so worked up. I should be happy for Elias.”

Arden tucks a strand of blonde hair over her ear. “You can be happy for him and be disappointed for yourself. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Exactly. You’re not required to operate your emotions like you administer the law. Emotions aren’t black or white, right or wrong. Sometimes we feel twenty-one emotions all at once,” Vanessa says, laughing as she spreads her napkin on her lap.

I manage a small laugh too. “I think I’m feeling twenty-five emotions.”

“Sounds about right,” Arden says as the server swings by, bringing us our breakfast.

We thank her, and as I dive into my eggs, Arden clears her throat. “But I don’t think it’s the disappointment over the job that’s the main reason you’re upset.”

I meet her gaze head-on. “It’s not?”

When we arrived at the diner, I told them everything that went down last night—the promotion, how I felt awful for not being happy for Elias, how my missing out on the advancement was clearly related to Derek, and how Derek and I decided it was time to end our silly little roomies-with-benefits deal. A deal that always had an expiration date.

Vanessa shakes her head, drinking her coffee. “Maybe the reason for one of those twenty-five emotions—sadness—is that you don’t merely like Derek.” She takes a beat. “You love him.”

I wince and struggle once more with the astonishing sharpness of that truth. How do people live with these pesky feelings wreaking havoc with plans all the damn time? “I did fall in love with him, but it’s not going to work out. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.”

Vanessa presses. “But why do you have to be fine?”

“Because nothing is going to happen with him.” The words taste like gravel, and it hurts to say them. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the everything is all good here routine.

“How do you know for sure?” Arden asks.

“He doesn’t want anything,” I say tightly, keeping my tone as neutral as I can, as if this fact doesn’t rip apart my heart.

Vanessa taps her finger on the table. “Who cares about him? What do you want?”

I heave a sigh and scoop up another forkful of eggs. “Right now, I want to stop feeling sorry for myself.”

My brunette friend stares sharply at me. “You’re a strong, independent woman, but you don’t have to be so independent all the time.”

“Lean on us,” Arden adds.

“Let us be here for you,” Vanessa seconds.

Just like that, awareness clobbers me.

Sometimes it takes your girlfriends—no, your best friends—to help you see what’s surrounding you. Supporting you.

They are.

They’re my people.

They’re my family, my sisters. Whether I have Derek in my life or not, these women will always be here.

And lately, I haven’t let them completely be who they want to be—my best friends. It’s time I let them be my best friends in word and deed. I’m going to lean on them like they want, and like I want.