Page 33 of Presley's Christmas Catch
“And you’re not distracted now?” he argues. “You have a lot on your plate, and you have for weeks. Maybe you did start out as friends, but all the stuff with the Devils is overshadowing what’s there.”
I sigh, thinking of all the ways I’ve seen my friends and family show their love. Even Jett, when everything in him told him to stay away from Ava, he couldn’t ignore his obvious feelings for her. “Why am I not finding excuses to see her all the time, the way you went to Layla’s food truck?” Lincoln has the decency to turn red when I remind him of how he bought desserts he could never eat while he was trying to get up the nerve to ask her out. “If I was in love with her, I’d want to kiss her the moment she walks into a room, wouldn’t I?”
“Everyone loves differently, Brock,” Layla says. “That’s why there are books and books and books about the psychology of it.”
“I’d know,” I insist.
“So that’s it?” Lincoln asks. “Your great friendship with Presley is just over?”
Something heavy drops into my stomach. I’ve been dreading facing this thought since last night. I hate the idea of not having her in my life.
“No,” I reply automatically. “We can still be friends.”
Layla and Lincoln share another one of those couple looks. “For now,” Lincoln says slowly. “You can’t be book besties when she’s married to someone else.”
I open my mouth to retort that it’s about books so why not but can’t say it.
Layla snaps her fingers a couple times. “What’s his name?From the wedding. I think you said he plays for the Cobras now?”
“Brendan Tanner,” Lincoln says. I tense. He was a receiver, like Lincoln, who played at USC with us. I don’t talk much to him now, so I can’t explain why I don’t like where I think Layla’s going with this.
“We should set her up with him. She could probably convince him to read those books.” She whips her head toward me. “What’s the name of them?”
I blink at her and stare for several seconds. “I know what you guys are doing.”
Layla’s eyes are the picture of innocence. Sheisan actress, and a very good one. “What?”
“Trying to make me jealous. Also TOK is not something you convince people to like.” I should’ve stopped talking before I said that. It does sound jealous. Even I hear it. Like no one could possibly share the bond Presley and I have over those books because we’ve both loved them since childhood.
The thing is no one likes TOK, and it’s not going to suddenly become popular after twenty years.
“Listen.” My tone is defensive, and Lincoln bites his lips together, probably to keep from laughing at me. “Okay, you and Eli and his sister all ended up with people you were friends with first, but it doesn’t mean that every time a man and a woman are friends that romance is around the corner.”
Amusement is written all over Lincoln’s face. He holds up his hands in surrender. “So you and Presley are going to go back to being friends—for now.” It’s like he can’t help but add that. “As soon as you get past the awkward. Sounds great.”
I sigh and go back to eating. He doesn’t get it. Fine. He’s not matchmaking, so I’ll be grateful for that and figure out how to fix my friendship with Presley.
It’sfine.
CHAPTER 14
PRESLEY
I’ve picked up my phone at least a dozen times since I got home from work to text Brock. It’s so natural to check in with him on all the little things that happen with my day, but after last night, everything I send is going to sound flirty or like I’m trying to convince him to like me back.
So now I have a private window open on my web browser, searching every article about the Christmas ring in hopes of distracting myself from the dumpster fire I’ve made of my friendship with Brock.
I miss him.
I miss him so much, and it’s only been a day of no contact.
This might be why I have a sad love song playing on repeat on my phone, and every time it gets to the chorus about never getting to talk to their ex again, I sing it at the top of my lungs with what I feel like is some serious emotion and believable heartbreak.
It’s even clearer to me now how hard I fell for him, how much our friendship meant to me, and how heartbreaking it is that he doesn’t want more. For a few seconds, our kiss was electric. I could have melted into him. I drift into a daydream where instead of him yanking away from me so quickly like he did, hepulls metohim, wrapping his arms around my back. I shiver at the thought and then scowl.
No, Presley. No. That’s not going to happen.
But do Itrulyregret the kiss?
