Page 50 of Fun at Parties
“Look, obviously there’s still something between us. And, obviously, neither of us is in a place to pursue anything serious. We got caught up in the moment, but I have no regrets as long as it doesn’t kill our friendship. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, whether or not it happens again.”
Truthfully, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from last night. But admitting that doesn’t seem likely to put him at ease.
“Happens again?Quinn, last night was…” He squeezes his thigh, and I try not to look. “I can’t stop thinkingabout it. There’s a good chance I’llneverstop thinking about it. But to be your—your rebound—I don’t think I can do it.”
I thought I was okay with a onetime thing, but something inside me rips in two at his words.It’s all we’ve got,I want to say.Don’t dwell on whatever’s giving you pause. Focus on the good.
But I’ve made that mistake with Nate before. “If that’s what you want, I’ll respect it.” My voice wavers as I realize how much I’m going to expose myself. “But last night wasn’t about me rebounding. It had nothing to do with Caleb. I don’t care about him anymore. That was entirely about me and you.”
He’s completely still. “Oh.” A beat passes, quiet except for the birds chirping in the tree next to the garden. The air between us is taut with the weight of my admission and the memory of us tangled together last night. There’s longing in his eyes, and it makes my knees shake. When he bites down on his bottom lip, I taste raspberries and lime. “I wish it were simple. Last time, I only left L.A. for a month. This time…”
I look away, at the yellow flowers.Forever,that’s how long he’ll be gone. “I know.”
When I turn back, he’s shaking his head. “If that was hard for both of us, I can’t imagine how awful it would be now.”
After it ends, he means. Because itwillend. A crush of red threatens to descend on me, but I push it away. We can do more right now than lament our sorry circumstances. “You’re right. But regardless, we should still go to Kansas tomorrow. Together.”
He watches me in that intense way, like the completely neutral position of my mouth is telling him I’m on the verge of falling apart. I don’t bother forcing a smile. He stands, and something flashes on his face that I think might be hope. “Okay. Let’s go to Kansas tomorrow.”
We spend the rest of the day apart. I poke around some nearby shops and pick out a pair of silver cowboy boots at a secondhand clothing store. He goes for a run.
At night, when I come out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth, he’s pretending to be asleep, and not even doing a good job of it. His phone is still lit up on the end table, like he put it down five seconds ago. I lie in bed in the loft, listening to the couch creak under his restless movements for a long time.
I’msoglad we cleared everything up today. We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow.
Chapter 17
The next morning, I slipout before sunrise to visit the gym again. While I’m doing squats, Nate texts me to say he’s running errands, so thirty minutes later I return to an empty house and take my time showering.
While my conditioner sits, I check out Nate’s bath products. According to the label on his half-full bottle of body wash, the fragrance notes in it are oak and bergamot. His shampoo is the same. At least he’s not using the dispensers attached to the shower wall, because the products in there smell strongly of—ugh—gardenia.
Jolee’s signature scent, Go-Getter, was heavy on the gardenia. My mom wore it as a perfume. She also lit the candles, set out bottles of the air freshener in our bathrooms, and kept me stocked with the body lotion. Jolee had other fragrances too, like a citrusy one we had in reed diffuser form in the kitchen and a pillow spray I still blame for the headache I get every time I catch a whiff of lavender.
None of it smelled awful on its own, but I couldn’t escape it. It wasn’t until I returned to my parents’ house for winter break my first year of college that I realized howoverwhelming all the scents were. By that point, Jolee was defunct, but Mom was still working her way through the boxes of inventory in the garage. She tried until the bitter end, I’ll give her that, even though it was hard.
After I was born, my parents moved for Dad’s job, and she’d struggled, lonely and bored and not cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. Once she found Jolee, which gave her a sense of purpose and a ready-made village of friends, she thrived. Did she take it too far? Absolutely. But it was designed to suck in women like her, and I get why she found it appealing. Now more than ever.
How many times have I felt desperate for the same things she wanted: friendship and connection with other people? I was lucky to find it when I met Bailey, and when she introduced me to everyone else. I thought it would come easily when I went to CycleLove, but I screwed it up. Michelle is the only friend I have at work who isn’t closer to Caleb than me, which means Michelle is the only friend I have. When I get back to L.A., I have to start over. It’s a daunting task.
When I exit the bathroom, my skin is still damp under my clothes, and I smell something I do like: coffee. Nate is back.
“Morning.” He nods at the kitchen counter, where an oat milk latte and a smoothie with peanut butter wait for me.
“Thanks,” I say, surprised.
He eyes me over the top of his own coffee cup. “You look nice.”
I’m wearing bike shorts and a sweatshirt, and my wet hair is hanging over my shoulder in a sloppy braid. Mycheeks are red from my workout and the hot shower. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure out why he’s buttering me up.
“What?” he asks.
“What’s going on?”
He laughs. “Nothing’s going on. Are you almost ready to go?”
I’m confused. Yesterday, things were weird. And now…“You’re being too nice.”
“I think you misheard me. I said you look terrible. Also, all these drinks are for me. It’s a long drive.”
