Page 87 of Friends Don't Kiss

I shut my eyes tight. “I’d come back,” I say.

“Would you, though? What’s here for you, that you wouldn’t have elsewhere?”

“I have you guys.”Colton.

She nods. “But with your talent, you know you could do better than Emerald Creek? Hence the school in Paris.” She states this as a question, one I can’t answer. When the silence between us stretches, she tilts her head and asks, “And… how does Colton figure into all that?”

“He’s on board, totally.”

She nods softly. “I just thought, maybe…”

“What?”

“It’s not my place,” she says.

Emma might not be my number one choice to discuss Colton, but she’s definitely a model in terms of being professionally successful. “I’m giving you permission. Tell me.”

“I was wondering if… and I mean, power to you. It’s hard enough being a woman, and a businesswoman, without having to deal with all this relationship crap.”

“You were wondering what?”

“If it was a way for you to… to soften the blow of a breakup.”

What the fuck is she talking about?

She must be reading my face like an open book, because she adds, “You know, let him down softly. Tell him you can’t do long-distance, you want to keep your options open in terms of your career. And I totally applaud you for that. I just want to say, you can also walk up to the guy and tell him it was fun but it’s over.”

I blink at her. I’m out of words.

“Clearly, that is not the case, and I apologize,” she says. She does look mortified. “I thought maybe you wanted to go to Paris to flee something or someone. But I get it now. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It has nothing to do with tall, dark, and handsome. And thank god for that. I’m so sorry I even suggested that. I won’t bring it up anymore.” She pulls herself together—big breath, shoulders back. “Look, whatever you do professionally, you’ll be successful. You need to believe a little more in yourself. And know that I’m here to support you and advise you on all thingsbusinesssince clearly, I’m totally unqualified for the personal stuff. And my life is proof of that.”

“You’ll find your person, Ems,” I say, suddenly realizing my own issues are highlighting the fact that she’s a single mom. A gorgeous, available woman still going home alone with her six-year-old.

“Oh—I made my peace with that. I don’t need a person. I have myself. I have Caroline. I kind of like it like that. Let’s face it: I’m boring. I’m a CPA. I have a kid. I’m not a good deal. At all.”

My heart clenches at the way my friend sees herself. “Relationships shouldn’t be evaluated like a business transaction. You’re gorgeous, and—”

“I appreciate you, Kiara, but really, I’m good.” She turns her attention to the computer, typing at high speed, hits a button, then hands me a printout. “Here’s your homework, my friend. I’ll need some numbers from you, but mainly, some thinking.”

I look over her sheet and thank her as I fold it.

But as I leave her office, the thing that bears most on my mind is this lingering question: Is hoping for Paris a cop-out from my found family here, a way to avoid the uncertainty of this relationship I’m building with Colton? If I could have the barn, or something like it, am I ready to take the chance?

thirty-one

Kiara

OnSunday,Coltonbringsa Road to Heaven to my place and announces he’s taking me to the racetrack for our third date. “I know you gotta be tired to the bone,” he says—and I am—“but you said you wanted the date to be all about me. So it’s gotta be today.”

We don’t take his truck, but one of the low cars he tinkers with endlessly at his garage. “I need to show some guys there a couple of things with this car,” he says. At least we’re not in his truck towing a race car. I don’t think I could watch Colton risk his life in what’s pretty much a tin can and be okay. And I want to be okay.

I fight the urge to run my hand in his hair. After we came back from Annabel's, he dropped me off at Sunrise Farms, saying he had something to do at the garage before turning in for the night. The way he said it, I knew he was lying, and that’s okay. He doesn’t want to become physical yet—it’s an endless tease he’s drawing out. I know it. And I know he knows I know.

It’s part of the game we’re both playing, having agreed to the unspoken rule that Colton holds the key to our physical progression after my massive fuck-up of asking him to pop my cherry. We don’t need to have a conversation about it for me to understand this is what’s going on. I’ve had time to process what I did, and I have to say, I’ve put Colton through a pretty messed-up ringer. First the V-card thing, then preferring a dating app to him. It’s time I concede defeat and let him take the lead.

My physical attraction to him is reaching unbearable limits, and if he doesn’t do something about it soon, I can’t answer for myself.

How does he do it? He wants me, yet he kissed my cheek when he dropped me off. Okay, there was a little hand action on my lower back, but that’s it.

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