Page 57 of Last Love

This was enough for now.

We do not need a dedicated two hours where she can grill him or turn him into a case study without his consent.

Mine is enough.

“I’d like that,” Ry warmly replies while I quietly hope that’s the end of the conversation.

“Let’s get it on the books. We can all go have steak or sushi.”

Another wave of anxiety washes over me knowing the internal toll it’s probably wreaking on my boyfriend to just consider paying for something that costly.

And he’s gonna fucking insist because pride it seems is his Achilles heel.

My mouth twitches to speak when he beats me to it. “Give me a date, and I’ll add it to my calendar now.”

Now?!

Wait.

How are things moving this fast?

Katherine reaches over to grab her own phone right as I prepare to interrupt again. “You keep a calendar?”

“I have to.” Ry removes his device from his pocket. “Between support groups, piss tests, blood tests, family dinners, Pres’s work schedule and mine, it’s the only way I don’t fuck everything up.”

Rather than comment on that, I gingerly inform, “You can cuss in my office behind the closed door, Ry, but outside of this room, the rule is ‘tiny ears, tiny words’, okay?”

“Sorry, Principal Morrison.” A smile is twitched on his lips. “I’ll be more careful.”

The mirth-filled glare he’s twitched receives a low chuckle.

“Can you teach my husband how to be more responsible?” Katherine pokes, thumb swiping her screen. “He has a calendar, an assistant, and alarm reminder yet still somehow forgets Angel has a playdate with the Fitzgeralds. A playdate I just want everyone in this room to know isn’t really a playdate so much as an interview for an arranged marriage I know Walter and Sylvie are planning for Lucius like he’s a member of the royal lineage rather than just another socialite created to keep the money flowing in the family.” She shoots me a playfully scolding stare. “Do not accept their application.”

My hands fly in surrender around my laughter.

“Next Saturday work for you?” Katherine inquires, attention back on my other half.

“Saturdays in general are shit for me. Typically work twelve hours,” he announces yet doesn’t abandon the subject. “Can we do Sunday instead?”

“Sunday’s perfect.” She begins typing. “I’ll leave Carter at home with Angel, and it’ll just be us.”

“Am I invited?” I teasingly interject in spite of the tension in my system.

“Probably,” my best friend sassily proclaims before looking back up at Ry. “Presley and I’ll work on deets.”

He finishes typing, puts his phone back in his pocket, and grins. “Look forward to it.”

“Me too.”

Me…not so much.

Them getting along now is one thing.

Do I think they can or will for two hours over food that’s gonna stress my boyfriend out to buy?

I don’t know.

“Good luck looking at high education institutes, Collins.”

“Good luck, babe.”

He warmly tips his head our directions. “Thanks ladies.” We watch him wordlessly walk to the door and when he finally reaches it, he shoots me one last look. “I love you, Pres.”

It’s impossible to ignore how much harder my heart starts to pound. “I love you, Ry.”

Joy floods his expression upon his exiting.

After she feels she’s waited a significant amount of time for him to be completely out of earshot, Katherine ponders, “Who’s the friend?”

“No clue.”

Her eyebrows lift in suspicion. “And you’re fine with that?”

“Yeah.”

“Completely okay with not knowing if this friend is a male or female or attractive or unattractive or perhaps a recovering serial killer?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that the latter have support groups, Katherine.”

She snickers at her own joke as she prepares to finish her salad. “You’re not concerned at all?”

“No.”

Katherine flashes an impressed expression and lifts a bite to her mouth. “Remember it’s a thin line between trust and blindness, Presley.”

Obviously, I know that.

I mean, am I really concerned about the unknown individual?

Nah.

I trust him.

I really do.

He’s been open and upfront and honest about his struggles and day to day frustrations.

Now, am I curious?

Fuck yeah.

It’d be insane not to be about this “mystery” friend who he also sometimes texts, although not often when we’re together.

But if he wanted me to know more…he’d tell me.

He’s not the same boy he was all those years ago.

And I’m not going to punish the man that he is now without reason to.

Innocent until there’s proven fuckery.

That’s what it means to truly trust someone.

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