“What happened?” he asks.
I feel like a deer in headlights. “I was trying to make you breakfast.”
“Well, are you all right?”
I look down at the spilled hot coffee and broken mug beside my feet.
“Stay right there,” he says, dashing toward the hallway. A moment later he returns with a towel, diving onto his hands and knees to clean up the mess I’ve made.
“Sorry,” I say.
Robbie glances up at me. “No need to be sorry. It was just an accident.”
The bread pops out of the toaster. It startles me, and my shoulders jump again.
When the spilled coffee and broken mug is cleaned up, Robbie gets to his feet and grins. “So, what’d you make me?”
“Umm, burned bacon and a toasted English muffin,” I say, glancing at the stove and toaster.
“My favorite,” he teases, and I can’t help but smile. My shoulders finally relax and I let out a deep breath. He leaves the kitchen with the dirty towel in hand, and I pour him a cup of coffee, careful not to drop this one. The washer kicks on, and a moment later Robbie is standing in front of me. He’s thrown a T-shirt on and his hair is now pushed back, rather than going in all directions. I hand the mug over.
He slowly sips his coffee, but he doesn’t wince like I did. Must have a higher pain tolerance. “Still upset about Shawn?” Robbie asks.
I busy myself by scrubbing out the pan in the sink. “I was never upset about Shawn.”
“Oh, then what was wrong?”
I scrub the pan harder, deciding whether to tell Robbie about Tyler. I know what he’ll say. He’ll tell me I shouldn’t have dated until I was feeling better. He’ll tell me I should break it off with him. But maybe I want him to say those things. Maybe I need to hear them so it’ll light a fire under me and stop me from waffling on the decision.
“I think Tyler may have bowed out too.”
“What? Why?”
“He left pretty upset last night.” I rinse the pan, set it in the drying rack, and turn to face Robbie. “Didn’t like that you had done a deep dive on him or that Maya had arranged the party so she could size them up.”
His brows shove together. “But we’re helping you.”
“That’s what I said. But he felt like if I had questions I wanted answers to, I should have just asked him. He said it seemed like I wasn’t the one making the decision.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Robbie scoffs. “You have a brain injury—of course your friends are going to help you.”
“But maybe you all are helping a little too much.” I dry my hands off with a dish towel and pour myself a cup of coffee.
He tilts his head. “Is that really what you think?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like I should know who I love and maybe I’m overthinking it because you all have so much to say about the guys. It’s confusing. And Tyler is hurt that I still don’t know who I love.” I sip slowly.
“Oh, so he’s mad that you didn’t just pick him right away.” Robbie rolls his eyes.
I let out a sigh and stare into my mug. “I guess he was really confident in our connection, so he assumed I would be too and that I would just know in my heart.”
“So, Tyler’s out?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “He said he would text me.”
“You should be done with him,” he says earnestly.
“What? Why? I’m not ending it with Tyler.”