Page 48 of From Fling to Ring

Petal drops her head back and groans. “Okay. That is the most boring freaking answer I have ever heard. He’s nice. He’s fun,” she says in her best mocking voice.

“C’mon, Lu,” Gilly says. “Give us some real scoop.”

Should I tell them how he practically raised his little sister?

How I found him crying when he thought she was sick?

How he has a photo of his mother on his desk, which he wrote on the back of when she died?

How he volunteers with a kid’s hockey team?

How badly he felt when he fell asleep at the symphony?

Or how he hustled to get me an ice pack when I fell on my knee?

These are things I can share with the girls. But in order to, I have to say them out loud.

And if I say them out loud, I am acknowledging them, and will have to admit to myself that I don’t see how I can write my damn book.

23

LUCY

“What’s this?”

I take a huge box from Tyler, and that sensation of dread that has been haunting me so much dials up to warp speed.

He’s gotten me a gift. A goddamn gift.

From the size of the box and the fact that it says Saks Fifth Avenue on it, I’m pretty sure it’s something fancy to wear. Expensive, too. There is a Saks downtown on Union Square, which I have been inside of exactly once in my life, to use the ladies’ room. Not shop.

This is… weird.

Is it possible to both like and dislike something at the same time? I don’t even know what’s in the box and yet I love that Tyler’s gotten me a gift. But, I also hate it. He’s not supposed to do nice things for me.

And yet he won’t goddamn stop, as if he’s trying to prove me wrong.

He’s ruining everything.

He drums his fingers on the arm of the sofa. Is he nervous? Afraid I won’t like whatever he’s giving me?

Don’t guys like him manipulate women all the time by throwing money at them? Sure, this gift, whatever it cost, is just a small drop in the bucket that is Tyler’s huge, pro-athlete bank account.

“You know, um, well, I don’t know much about women’s clothes. So I had Ruby come shopping with me. She helped me pick this out.”

Holy shit. He went through that much effort? For me?

Yes, I’m sleeping with him and all, but that sort of thing is just par for the course for guys like him.

Right?

“Ruby helped you? You went together?” I ask quietly.

I can picture him in the women’s department of Saks Fifth Avenue. He’s walking through it in massive discomfort, maybe even on the brink of an anxiety attack. He knows and everyone around him knows he’s pretty much helpless as a baby, lost in acres of women’s clothing, just wanting to make a purchase and get the hell out.

But Ruby, feisty little thing that she is, drags him around, touching and studying everything on offer until she finds something that’s ‘just perfect’ for me. He looks at her final recommendation skeptically and asks ‘Are you sure, Rubes? You think this is her jam?’

She gives him a dirty look and tells him if he doesn’t buy whatever she chose for me, he’s a freaking idiot.

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