Page 25 of The One I Need
Fuck…what did I do?
My brain starts going a million miles a minute when I hear my phone vibrating on my coffee table. I launch the pillow across the room as I nearly fall off the couch to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Since when do you answer the phone with a hello?”
I look at the screen to see that it’s Shane calling me, not the beautiful redhead who has been a part of my every thought for the better part of two weeks.
“Isn’t that the appropriate way to answer the phone?”
“Only for a job interview.”
“Well excuse me for having manners. What do you need?”
“Sheesh,” he says. “Nice talking to you too, asshole. God forbid I call to make sure you’re alive.”
I groan as I fall back on the couch. I don’t know why I’m being an ass to Shane. He’s one of my best friends in the world. We’re the only two out of the four guys who lived in Rolling Hills for a majority of our adult lives. The only time we didn’t was when I was in college and he was serving his time in the Army. Because of that, we have a closeness that we don’t have with Wes or Simon. So I get why he’s calling to check if I’m still alive. I’ve been so preoccupied with Project Presents that I kind of forgot that the outside world existed.
“I’m here,” I say. “And sorry I was short with you.”
“Is everything okay? You haven’t been yourself for a few weeks now.”
I open my mouth to start talking, but nothing comes out. This happened when they first asked me about what happened the night of the wedding. I thought then that it was because everything was so fresh and I didn’t know what I really felt. And maybe I’ll tell them after I hear from Izzy. Or should I say if I hear from her. But right now I need to keep this to myself.
“Everything is fine.”
Shane doesn’t say anything back, which is exactly what I expected. Honestly, if any friends were the ones to check on me, I’m glad it was Shane. He’s the only one who won’t press me for more information, or double down on the question. Because that would require more conversation, and Shane Cunningham avoids that more than he avoids relationships. Which is saying something.
It’s funny sometimes to think that out of everyone in the group, I’m closest to Shane. Don’t get me wrong, I’d take a bullet for each of them. And we all have our functions. When we need the shoulder to cry on, it’s Amelia. When you need romantic ideas or advice, I’m your guy. When you need someone to overanalyze something, but in the end give you a solid pro-con list, you go to Wes. Shane’s the one who will give you the slap on the head and the “Come to Jesus” talk. And Simon? Well, he’s the one we call when we need to hear what we don’t want to. Or if we need a body buried. Figuratively, of course.
But when it comes to Shane and me, he’s usually the one I go to first for general advice. He knows my history. He knows all the crazy shit I’ve done when it comes to women. He knows all of the girlfriends and almost girlfriends. He knows about every proposal.
Well, except the last one.
“I still don’t believe you’re okay, but I’m not about to drive over there and force you to talk,” Shane says. “If it’s about Shannon, get over it. If it’s about someone else, then figure it out. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss your ass texting me every day.”
“I knew you loved it when I did that.”
“I’ll never admit it in public.”
I laugh and am about to do the polite thing of asking him how he’s doing when I hear the sound of a call coming through. I take the phone away from my ear to see an unknown number.
“I gotta go,” I say abruptly. I don’t even wait for him to answer before I hang up and accept the call that I hope is Izzy.
“Hello?”
I did my best there to seem cool, calm, and collected. You know, like I hadn’t been waiting by the phone for the past two hours. I honestly can’t tell you if it worked or not. At least my voice didn’t break like it did when I asked out my first girlfriend in sixth grade.
“You play dirty.”
Goddamn it…just the sound of her voice does something to me. While it’s sexy as hell, and I need to remind myself that we aren’t back in that hotel room, it also somehow calms me. That’s a weird but at the same time amazing combination.
“I don’t like to think of it as playing dirty.”
“What would you describe it as?”
“Playing for keeps.”
