Page 65 of Against The Rules

Maybe that’s not a bad thing.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and as mad as I am that she’s upset, I can’t lie to myself.

I’m really fucking glad she called me.

I can’t wait to see her, even if it’s only to hold her while she cries.

The Savannah who opens the door is not the one I recognize. Her eyes are red-rimmed, dark makeup running underneath them.

“Hi,” she says miserably.

“Come here, Peaches,” I tell her.

She does, too, latching her arms around me. I pick her up and she cries onto my shoulder as I lock the door behind us before settling on the couch.

“What happened?”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she apologizes.

“For the record, I love raccoon eyes. You’re stunning. Now talk to me.”

Her arms hang around my neck, and beneath the running makeup, her eyes look slightly sunken, her cheekbones more pronounced than when I last saw her.

I frown. Maybe it’s just from crying, or stress.

She looks tired.

She rubs her cheek on my shirt, leaving a trail of black behind. “Presley and I were best friends all through college, roommates since then, for the last few years. She started dating this guy, and at first, things were really great, he seemed like a good guy, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” I say, wiping her cheek, then pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “And then?”

“And then he wasn’t. He treats her like crap. He doesn’t come over here anymore, but when he did… they would have these fights, except it was just him yelling at her, or worse, quietly making her feel like shit. I hate him. When she asked me what she, she, she…” Savannah pauses, hiccupping, her chest heaving as she cries.

I rub her back, at a loss, but sensing she just needs to get it out, whatever it is that’s made her so upset.

“She asked me what she should do,” she finally says, her voice breaking on the word. “I told her to dump him, that he was a piece of shit and she deserved someone who treated her like a princess and not like shit.”

“Good for you, Savannah,” I say quietly, pride shining in me. “That was good advice.”

“She took it. Until he showed up with a ton of flowers and jewelry and asked her to forgive him. And then she broke up with him, rinse and repeat. It’s so fucked up, and I know she’s not happy. But I love her, and I knew me telling her to leave him would drive a wedge between us, you know?”

Her little fingers are digging into my shoulders, her eyes so, so blue right now, her gaze searching mine.

“So I tried to bury how I feel about him. I thought things were getting better between us, and we were supposed to have our first girls’ night together in months, and I made margaritas and bought all this stuff for us to do and she was going to do my hair and we were going to watch movies and then he called, and—” She’s crying earnestly now, her face scrunched up.

I press her into my chest, hurting for her.

“She went to him.”

“She chose him,” Savannah says, the words broken. “She chose him hurting her again over me. I’m just so tired.”

I hold her for a long time, stroking her back and waiting until her sobs lengthen, until she seems spent. At first, I think maybe she’s fallen asleep.

“Savannah?” I say quietly, thinking maybe I should lay her down in her bed and tuck her in.

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