Page 24 of Shes my 1 Try

NINE

Wiley

“What do you mean, he’s not here?” Ines demands, scanning the corridor behind me as she opens the door to her apartment, and I trudge in, flopping on her lounge.

I don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t. Ines is my friend, though, and I know she’s only asking out of concern. I tell her everything I know and she listens, frowning, and then smiling sympathetically as she hands me a bourbon float.

“Sounds like Mr Flashy-winger-man, needs a bit of Wiley organisation in his life. How the hell do you forget you have a promo tour to go on? Especially when the last stop is Vegas?!” She waves her spoon in the air as she speaks, the bourbon hitting all the spots.

“I dunno, Ines. I guess he’s been busy with a new club and all the stuff he left behind at the last one, and?—”

“And you,” she interrupts, smirking. “Face it, you and he have been in each other’s virtual pockets since he sent that first message. I’d forget about the rest of the world too, if I had the kind of feelings you two seem to be developing.”

I tell Ines almost everything, but I hold back the feeling that Asher was going to tell me he loves me. She might be all onboard the lust express, but when it comes to love, especially this soon, I think she’d become a wailing alarm bell.

“So what you’re saying is that this is my fault?” It’s not like the thought hadn’t occurred to me, but hearing someone else say it out loud makes me feel even worse.

“Well, not entirely.” She shrugs, placing her glass on the coffee table. “Oh. My. God.”

Bolting up on the lounge, as much as is possible in its marshmallowy softness, I thump my glass on the table. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? No, nothing. Everything’s right.” She jumps to her feet, racing into her bedroom.

“I’m not sure me lamenting not being able to be with or see the man I am totally into is a good thing, Ines. And when I say I’m into him…I mean, I’m really into him.”

“That much is clear,” she calls out, laughter in her tone. “Just admit it, Wiley. You’re in love.”

“Wait? What? No, I’m not. Nu-uh?—”

“Liar,” she taunts, coming back into the room, a small box in her hand. “I knew it the moment you told me about him. Saw that sparkle in your eyes.”

“Sparkle? Really?” I shift forward on the seat as she sits next to me, surprised with her acceptance of something I’ve only just come to acknowledge myself.

“Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad. But I’m happy for you, the way you’ve thrown yourself into this odd situation. That’s why I have something for you. Well, it’s more of a re-gift, but you’ll get so much more use out of it than I will.”

“We haven’t exactly been conventional, have we?” I laugh, leaning on her shoulder as she opens the box and pulls out a travel pouch.

“No, but it seems to be working for you. Now, when you see this, your instinct is going to be to say no. I want you to know, I have no regrets about giving this to you.” Shifting back on the lounge, frowning at her, she passes the travel pouch over to me.

“Ines, you’re acting weird.” She waves me off and tells me to open it. As soon as I see the contents, I shove it back at her. “No! You’re right, I can’t accept this.”

“You can and you will.” She shoves it back, a don’t-argue-with-me look on her face.

“But…this is too much. First-class tickets to Las Vegas and the opening games of the rugby league season. In a box, no less! How? Why…” I stop asking questions when her lips roll together, Ines’s way of holding in her emotions. “Shit! This was from Simon, wasn’t it?”

“Hmm,” she nods, composing herself. “He never quite understood why I enjoyed the game so much. He’s a soccer man himself, but he never complained when I wanted to go and watch a game. This was supposed to be a surprise. He couldn’t stop himself from giving it to me for Christmas, though.”

“All the more reason for me not to take it, Ines. You should give it back to him or something?—”

“I tried to, trust me. The man is as stubborn as the day is long. No, it’s kismet, fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it that you should have this. Surprise your man. Give him the whole Wiley experience so he’ll never forget a damn thing again!” Pushing up from the couch, I know it’s her way of closing the discussion.

Not this time.

“This gift isn’t just some throw away thing. There’s more here you’re not telling me. Now spill!” Plonking my ass on a kitchen stool, I grab two glasses and decant a generous amount of bourbon in each, pushing hers toward her.

“Wiley, please?—”

“No! Not this time. You make me spill my guts whenever shit goes wrong. What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t do the same in return? I know you cared more for Simon than any of your previous boyfriends. And while I might have teased you about him being a sugar daddy, I know there was more to it. Now stop being a pussy and tell aunty Wiley what the fuck happened.” Her mouth flaps open and I’m surprised when a barking laugh comes out, but it dies quickly as she leans her hip on the bench, staring out the window.

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