Page 56 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“Fuck that.” Miles frowns and circles the counter before his fist makes contact with my shoulder.

“The fuck was that for?” I shout, rubbing the spot of impact.

“Not having sex with someone doesn’t mean you’re broken, dumbass.”

“Not withanyone, though?” My mouth is dry.

“You’re not broken. Now what the fuck did you do?”

“It just isn’t going to work,” I mutter and attempt to walk past him to my bedroom. He reaches out a hand to grip my arm, stopping me.

“I thought you liked her.”

I swallow, then slowly turn my head.

“I did,” I say, then quickly add, “I do. I just can’t.”

“If you screwed this up-”

“I’m sure I did,” I grumble, pulling out of his grasp, but turning my whole body toward him.

“Can you fix it?”

“Probably not.”

Miles sighs and runs a hand through his hair, messing up the curls even more than they already were.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

This is why he’s my best friend. Sure, he blamed me first and he’s right. But he’s more worried about how I’ll handle my fuck-up, helping me get on with things. He cares about me.

“No, I think I’m just going to…” I trail off. “I’ll be ok.”

I won’t be.

“Just give me a shout if you change your mind.” He calls as I leave him, “And remember your homework! If you’re not seeing her again, I want you sending three messages a day!”

“Brody.”

I barely register Mel’s voice.

“Brody!” she tries again, quite a bit louder.

It’s enough to bring me back to reality. I shake my head.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Yes, customer C-022749. I haven’t heard from him since last week.”

“And this new file I sent you?” Her voice is shaky and I can’t seem to figure out why.

“I’m still working through it,” I admit. “There’s a lot of information.”

Mel nods. Though I can’t really tell through the video call, I know those hazel eyes are studying me. Even the little beauty mark below the left corner of her mouth seems to be judging me.

“I know it’s a lot, but you’re the only one I feel I can trust with a project of this size.”

“Do I have a deadline?” I ask, leaning back in my chair. I’m dying to ask for details, but it’s not my place.

“As soon as possible.”

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