Page 85 of Enticing the Enforcer
It’s weird, normally a call like this would get my hackles up. What kind of gossip are they looking for? Who is this benefitting? But the friendships I’ve made with these college girls are different. Shelby is so easy and genuine, which is only confirmed when she adds, “I also wanted to say I’m sorry for any part I had in this. And for what it’s worth–I had no idea you two would start dating for real. Or fall in love.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Falling in love is a bit of a stretch.”
“Okay, sure,” she concedes. “Let’s call it deep like. Either way, I hate that it’s come to this.”
I glance at my reflection, the green silk hugging me fluffy and soft, when all I feel underneath is raw. Against my better judgment, I ask, “How is he?”
There’s a pause before she says it. “A complete mess.”
The seamstress steps back to study her work, head cocked, pins glinting between her fingers. My gaze stays fixed on my own eyes in the mirror as I whisper, “Good.”’
Shelby exhales softly on the other end of the line. “Look, whatever’s going on with Jefferson, I just want you to know I’m still here. For you. Even though it’s new, I value our friendship, and I don’t want you to doubt that.”
There’s a pause, before she adds, quieter, “But here’s the thing. You’re mad about finding out the truth about what Jefferson said before he met you. I get it. But I’m hurt too, Ingrid. The way we met–it wasn’t honest either. You’d already met him when you walked into the Badger Den that first night. You recognized the names on the back of our jerseys. You’dalready eaten a Jefferson Parks Special. And I was the idiot who thought I was introducing you to someone new.”
Her words settle heavy in my chest, an ache layered on top of the one already there. She’s not wrong. I hadn’t lied, not exactly, but I hadn’t told the truth either.
“Shelby…” I start, then stop, because what am I supposed to say? That my whole world has been smoke and mirrors for so long I didn’t even realize I was doing it? “You’re right. I apologize.”
“I don’t blame you,” she continues quickly, like she doesn’t want me to spiral. “I just don’t want either of us to pretend things were perfect from the start. It wasn’t. But I still want to be your friend. That hasn’t changed.”
My throat tightens. For all the chaos between us, that lands. “I’m grateful for you, too, Shelby. For Nadia and Twyler, who are really great.”
“They are great, aren’t they?”
I laugh. “How have things been for you?”
She brightens a little, launching into it. “Busy. We’ve had graduations, and I’ve been meeting everyone’s families. Parents, siblings. It’s been good. But also kind of sad. Everyone’s scattering to teams in different states. Just when I finally started to feel like I knew everyone, it’s all shifting again.”
Her wistfulness hums through the line, and I recognize it instantly. It mirrors my own. I guess that’s why I’m drawn to her, why I keep answering when she calls. She’s lonely too. And she must sense it back in me.
We say our goodbyes, and promise to catch up properly soon. I set the phone down, and the boutique is too quiet again.
The dress clings to me in the mirror, green and luminous, the kind of gown people expect me to wear. It’s beautiful. Soft. Romantic. And completely wrong.
“Maybe something a little more form-fitting,” I tell the seamstress, forcing brightness into my tone. My fingers smooth over the silk, like I can press confidence into it. “Less damsel in distress?”
Her gaze sweeps over me slowly, precise, mapping every line of my body like a tailor and a sculptor rolled into one. A knowing smile curves her lips. “I’ve got just the thing.”
26
Jefferson
“Is that the last one?”I ask, looking over the hood of the truck at Reid.
“Yep.”
We’ve just finished the third trip to the donation center, dropping off the boxes we’d tossed everything we no longer needed into over the last week.
“How the heck did we accumulate so much stuff?” I drop into the passenger seat of Reid’s truck.
“I want to know how we ended up with three fake Christmas trees?” he asks, cranking the engine of the old truck. “Or the seventeen coolers, although that one makes a little more sense.”
“The bigger question,” I remind him, “is how the hell did we end up cleaning the whole damn house by ourselves?”
“Yeah, that was a hard lesson to learn. Never be the last person to move out of the house.”
The past few days have been long and hard. Seeing our best friends pack up their belongings and head out toward the future. I’ve just been dragging my feet a little since my plans changed.I was supposed to go down to Florida for the Foundation event, but now I’m not sure what to do.
