Page 88 of My Best Friend's Sister

I waited for him to put two and two together.

“Whoa whoa whoa— You mean to tell me that you’re the ginger accountant who’s been sending her presents at work?”

Ginger?!

“The jackass who gave her a fucking hickey?”

I cringed. God, his memory was good when it came to her.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes when he began dry heaving, thinking the least I could do was humor his amateur dramatics. But when I heard bile splash in his toilet, I realized he was genuinely puking at the thought of me and Maddy. “Ouch,” I said, equally hurt and offended.

Spitting noises followed. Then a faucet and more spitting.

“I really don’t want to fall out over this.” The silence on his end of the phone grew unbearable, but I was grateful it wasn’t a dial tone. “James?”

“Thanks for telling me,” he said, not sounding all that thankful.

“Sure.”

“If you hurt her, I’m going to cut your balls off.”

“Does that mean I have your blessing?”

“Fuck no it doesn’t mean you have my blessing,” he said. “I need time to process this.”

“So do we.”

“You better not be a we already! Two weeks ago, you were letting me rant to you like a lunatic about this, and you knew all along.”

“Love makes people do crazy things.”

“That’s a fucking cop out. You were supposed to be looking out for her.”

“I was,” I insisted. “I am.”

His lips flapped against the receiver with another emphatic exhale. “For your balls’ sake, I hope you’re telling the truth.”

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