Page 102 of Ripped & Shipped
“We do?”
This I have to hear.
“Of course. Think about it. You’re both insanely independent. You have intense personalities. I mean that in the best of ways. You’re private about the things that matter most. And you both easily and willingly drop whatever you’ve got going on to help anyone when they’re in need.”
Wow. Of course Jayme would see my generous side. I did drop everything to help her achieve her life’s dream. I just never realized how much she actually acknowledged my role in her success until now.
“So, yeah,” she continues. “I think you two have the perfect blend of opposite traits and compatibility to make things highly interesting—and the chemistry between you two must be off the charts. Right?”
“I mean, it’s Chris.” That’s all I can say. I’m sort of stunned into a type of wordlessness.
“Right? He can seem so broody, but he’s really a big softie under all that tough exterior. Kind of like Grant, only Grant is actually a genuine grump, but he’s got a heart of gold.”
She’s confiding in me like we’re best friends. I came here prepared to be excluded. I don’t even know what to do with this interaction. There’s no place where it fits in my repertoire ofHow to handle a weekend with Chris’ best friends and a bunch of strangers.
“You and Grant make such a good match.”
It’s true, but that’s not why I’m bringing it up. I remember an influencer saying something years ago when I was much smaller and trying so hard to be relevant. She said,If you’re ever at a loss as to what to say in a social setting, turn the tables and ask the other person about themselves, or find an opportunity to compliment them. People love to talk about themselves. Violá, problem solved.
“Awww, thanks. Well, we have you partially to thank for helping us get back together.”
Yeah. I did that too. I just smile.
You know when you dump one too many sweeteners into your tea? That’s how I feel right now. Like I want to pucker from the extra sweetness.
I stand on the porch, looking at the door like I wish it were a portal to another world, or like it could summon Chris to my rescue. From what? From being befriended? Maybe. I just don’t trust this. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced with people from our town. And, yes, Jayme’s nice. Super-nice. But she’s never given me the time of day outside the usual cordial greeting when we see one another around town. And now it’s like we’re bffs. It’s a bit too much to swallow.
“Let’s go in. I’ll show you to your room and you can get settled.”
“Sounds good,” I say.
While I’m unpacking alone in my room, getting some much needed space, I hear the volume in the living room ramp up. Duke is here. Only that man can make an entrance like he does. I hear Shannon too. I should go out and get this over with. But a huge part of me wonders if anyone would notice if I stayed sequestered in this room all weekend.
Nope. No. Chris invited me. We’ve got a charade to pull off, and besides, I miss him.
I know. It’s pathetic. But lately, when he’s not around, my mind drifts to memories of our interactions, or thoughts of his touches. He actually kissed me on the temple a few times when we were on our fake date, and it was one of the sweetest gestures ever. Not to mention the way my body lit up like a fireworks show. Just a brush of that man’s lips and facial hair across my forehead, and I’m officially softer than a fresh container of playdough.
I take a deep breath. Recite a few affirmations.
I’ve got this.
It’s only a weekend.
Everything goes back to normal Sunday.
Chris is here.
Chris has my back.
I’ve got my own back.
I don’t need a man.
That last one leaves a different taste in my mouth than it usually does. Sure, I don’t need a man. But I’m kind-of enjoying having one. Not that I have one. Whatever. Leaning on Chris has been nice. And he hasn’t let me down.
Okay. Time to bite the bullet and come out of hiding.
As soon as I step into the living room, Chris stands and walks over to me. “Hey, babe, you all settled in?”
