Page 48 of Wish You Would

“Knock, knock.”

I tore my gaze from Wilbur to find a sleep-tousled Simon peeking into my open bedroom door. Waving him in, I scooted over and made room for him on my bed. He plopped down beside me, propping my pillows up beneath his head. “How are you this lovely morning?” he asked through a yawn.

“Wanna be a cat.” I yanked a pillow from beneath his head and laid down beside him. “Tired of being a human.”

“That is valid as fuck.” Rolling over, he faced me. In the morning light, his eyes leaned more green than gray. “No job, no bills.”

“Just head skritches and sunshine naps.” I turned my face into my pillow. “The perfect life.”

Simon reached over and skritched my head. “One out of two ain’t bad, right?”

Despite myself, I laughed. Rolling onto my side, I faced him. He’d been asleep when I got home last night. Dead to the world. I knew this because I’d peeked into his bedroom when I got home, desperate to talk about what’d happened, what I’d done. But now that he was here, a captive audience, I…kinda wanted to keep it to myself?

“So, you ready for your big date tonight?”

The question sank in my stomach like a stone in a well. A weird response to something I'd been wanting for so long. I forced a smile onto my face, however, as I answered. “Yeah. Very much.” Turning my face back into my pillow, I added, “So excited.”

Beside me, Simon froze. I winced. Not convincing enough, apparently. Interrogation was nigh. I had seconds to whip up an excuse for my lack of enthusiasm. I had seconds to figure out why I had no enthusiasm.

Who the heck was I kidding? I knew why. And that reason had dark eyes that burned like coals in a fire and the softest lips I’d ever—

“All right. Spill.”

I sat up and shoved my hair away from my face. “Spill what?” I was going for innocent, but I sounded fake even to my own ears. Still, I stayed the course. “What’re you talking about?”

“Oh, come on.” Simon sat up, too. “What’s with the fakery? You’ve been dreaming about this night for, quite literally, hundreds of days.” He looked me over, hazel eyes assessing. “Tell me.”

My cheeks burned. Looking away, I fidgeted with the blanket. “I, um,” I began, thoughts swirling like tornados in my brain. “Maybe, kind of, possibly, sort of—”

“Are you going to recite the entire thesaurus, or are you going to explain yourself?”

“Fine.” I huffed out a breath and faced him, chin up, shoulders back. “I’m into someone else.”

The silence that followed my confession was louder than the coffee shop during a Monday morning rush. For a moment, I thought Simon wasn’t going to speak. The man was stunned speechless. A very first in our friendship. Had…had I broken him?

“Sim,” I started, but that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

“Are you yanking my wang?” he demanded. “Are you tugging my tes—”

“I’m not doing anything to your genitalia,” I cut in, face flaming. I wasn’t sure if the heat in my face was from Simon’s vulgarity or my confession. A confession I’d never said aloud, that I’d never fully thought about until the words were out of my mouth.

I’m into someone else.

When had it happened? When had Gigi snuck into my psyche and settled in? And why did it feel like she belonged there?

“Ahem.”

I blinked away my shock and refocused to find Simon staring at me. Scrutinizing me. I shifted under his gaze. “What?”

“When, pray tell, were you going to tell me you were lusting over that cute little bartender?”

“How did you—”

“Please.” He waved me off with a dismissive hand. “Who else could it be? Besides,” he turned to pet Wilbur, who’d jumped on the bed to investigate the goings-on of his people. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“What do you mean?” I asked over the loud buzzing in my brain. “What are you talking about?”

Simon glanced up. “Sparks,” he said simply, going back to stroking Wilbur’s chin.

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