Page 22 of The Proposal
She leans forward, her boobs ready to fall out of the cups. “But, Blakely—he might not be right either.”
I still.What’s she up to?
If there’s one opinion I trust more than any other, it’s Ella’s. She’s never used me for her own gain, asked me for anything, or given me bad advice. She has the best heart, means well, and would hop on a plane at the last minute to celebrate her friend’s birthday without blinking an eye.
We’ve talked about Renn a thousand times, but she’s never said anything quite like this.
“It’s not just Brock who thinks I should avoid Renn.It’s me too,” I say.
“Uh-huh.”
“I mean it, Ella. Before you came in here, I was thinking about how done I am with dating and how I’m going to find a nice guy with a nine-to-five who wants a puppy.”Or something like that. “Rennis not that guy. He’s the prototype of the same men I’ve been seeing—just maybe leveled up.But that would only make him worse. He would … swallow my whole existence.”
“Sounds like a good time to me.”
“Ella…”
She laughs. “Let me put it to you this way. Controlled explosions are better than ones that unravel in the heat of the moment. Trust me. I’ve been there.”
I hold my breath, letting her continue.
“I adore your brother,” she says, “but he has ulterior motives. He would be in the middle if you and Renn have a falling out. And that would affect him personally and professionally.”
Exactly.
“On the other hand, I have no personal agenda here. I just want what’s best for you. And as your friend, and as a bystander, and as a person who has eyeballs—”
I laugh.
“You and Renn are a ticking bomb. And I’m not saying you should get serious with him because I hear your objections and can’t argue them. But it’s okay just to have a good time with someone.”
She folds her hands on her lap.
Glad that’s over. “I think the red dress—”
“I haven’t made my point yet.”
“Well, get to the point then. I’m getting cold.”
She reaches over and turns on the hot water. “There. Stop bitching.”
I want to glare at her, but I can only laugh.
“If you’re going to fall over the ledge, it’s better to repel down it carefully with a rope and a pulley and those sticky shoes I saw on—”
“Ella.”
She sighs. “Right. Focus.” She closes her eyes briefly. “It might be better to accept reality and defuse this thing before it goes off in your face. That’s all I’m saying. I’ll help you pick up the shrapnel, but I’ll sayI told you sothe whole time as you recall what I’m guessing would be the best sexual experience of your life.”
I don’t know whether to laugh, roll my eyes, or allow that to make sense. Thankfully, she transitions out of it for me—like a real friend.
“Black or red?” She holds her arms out and twirls in a circle. “I know what I think. But I need your expert opinion.”
“Black.”
She smiles. “Right answer.”
I reach up and turn off the tap, keeping one arm glued to my chest.
