The Roommate Agreement(62)

“How do you know that?” Sean asked.

Brie met his eyes. “Your mom. They’re all in it together.”

“And you never told me?”

“Well, no. I was sworn to secrecy when I heard them talking about it.”

“You never told me?” Shelby squeaked. “Best friend my ass!”

“I picked forty!” Brie held her hands out, palms up. “I thought you’d both be forty and divorced before you figured it all out.”

If Shelby’s gaze was deadly, Brie would be six feet under.

“It’s so nice to know we have parents who care about our feelings. Friends, too,” I said dryly. “I wish I was surprised.”

“Same,” Shelby muttered. “No wonder your mom always brought out the baby pictures.”

“Like you hated that.”

“Hush.” She spun and pushed a finger against my lips. “I think we can accuse your mom of influencing the vote. Grams, too. She’s always been one for getting out the submarine picture.”

Sean sniggered at the same time Brie looked away.

“On another note,” I said brightly. “If anyone had to be right, at least it was Grams. We can guilt her into food forever.”

Shelby perked up at that. “Oh, she so has to hand over that spaghetti recipe now.”

? ? ?

“You mad?”

Shelby’s hair whipped around her face until she swept it around the back of her neck. “I want to be. I think I should be. Don’t you?”

I nodded. “I feel like our parents are shits for betting on something we had no plan of happening. It was never in our plans to feel this way, but we do.”

“We do.” Her throat bobbed as she agreed. “Do you feel like we’re pressured into making this work now? Because I do. I feel like we have to because of them.”

I twisted my head until I looked at her. We were both standing halfway down the pier, somewhere between the hook-a-duck stall and the fortune teller, and the wind was just bearable.

And I could see it. On her face. The worry. The pressure. The expectation.

I moved closer to her so our elbows touched. “No.”

“No?” She tilted her head.

Our eyes met.

“No,” I repeated. “I don’t care what they think. I think their betting pool is stupid and petty, and I am not surprised Brie threw her own bet in. She thought it’d take us until forty, remember?”

She nodded. “It’s hard enough, isn’t it? It’s not like we can just throw our friendship away. I’m worried that’s what will happen if we dive headfirst into this.”

“I’m worried we’ll lose it if we don’t.”

“Really?” She grabbed the edge of the pier, her knuckles going white.

“Yeah.” I turned sideways and rested my elbow on the cold surface. “Shelbs, I don’t care what they think. You’re my best friend. I think we can make a relationship work because of that.”

She met my eyes. “Doesn’t it make you feel weird that everyone has been betting for us?”

“A little, and I’m going to tell them exactly what I think of that.” I half-smiled. “But they can bet all they like. It doesn’t matter to me. What matters to me is you. You’ve always been the person who matters the most. The way I feel about you now compared to two years ago is just semantics.”

“So you’re saying this is just an evolution of our feelings; an amplification of what was already there?”

“No. Two years I didn’t want to grab your face and kiss you every time I saw you. That’s a new development.” My half-smile became a whole one. “Maybe there was an underlying feeling for both of us. I don’t know. I’m not a psychologist. But I do know something.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s nobody I’d rather fuck up with than you.”

She laughed, dropping her head. Waves crashed against the pier, but when she didn’t move, I joined her, making it so she had to loop her arm through mine.

“You make me all kinds of happy, Shelbs. We don’t need to define what we are to each other right now.”

She took my hand, brushing her thumb over the back of my hand. “I’m thinking too much again, aren’t I? I know in my mind that this can work. It sounds so crazy when a week ago, telling you how I felt was the stupidest thing I could do. I’m starting to think that your mom getting me drunk had a purpose.”

“In her defense, it worked.”

“It really did.” She leaned into me, laughing. “I’m scared, Jay. I’m scared that the things you laugh at me about now will be annoying in a year. I’m afraid to lose your friendship, because that’s the most important thing ever. I wasn’t lying when I said I trust you—I do. I really do, more than anyone, and that goes for anything.”

“You won’t ever lose me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” I straightened, pulling her up with me.

She met my eyes. Bright lights from the rides and lights on the pier danced across her face, and I cupped her jaw with my hands. My thumbs brushed her cheeks as the lights did, illuminating everything from her downturned lips to her high cheekbones to the rich brown of her beautiful eyes.