Page 101 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

“You’re a therapist, and he’s a computer security specialist,” he pointed out. “What work thing would you have to argue about? Who gets to use the coffee machine first?”

“We don’t have a coffee machine. There’s a coffee bar,” she said, dodging the question and tossing the pants onto the bed in a messy heap.

“Come on. What happened?” Will asked, a genial tone in his voice. “Is this because you two won’t admit you have a hard-on for each other?”

She stiffened. “What? I—”

Will laughed. “Oh, don’t give me that shocked routine. I’m not blind. We had fun when we went out, but it was real obvious why the friend zone was our destiny.”

“What was real obvious?” She grabbed the phone so it wouldn’t slide off her shoulder and sat on the bed.

“That I wasn’t the guy you wanted to be out with on Valentine’s Day. You talked about Beckham for half our date. And his stealth mode wasn’t any better. He always got uptight when I talked about liking you or going out with you—and Beck can be an intense guy but he isn’t an uptight one. Plus,” he said conspiratorially, “Trinity saw you making out on the porch the night of the NoPho party. She didn’t tell me until after I told her about our Valentine’s date, but she said y’all looked pretty into it.”

Eliza sighed, liking Will even more for his easy candidness. He really was a terrific guy. Why couldn’t she have fallen forhim? Her heart had terrible taste. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to lead you on. I really do think you’re great and wanted to go on those dates, but I was distracted. Beckham and I had a thing that wasn’t supposed to be an actual thing. But it…got complicated and didn’t work out.”

“Because Beck screwed it up?” he guessed.

She grabbed a balled-up pair of socks and squeezed them like a stress ball. She would not get emotional, dammit. She’d moved on. Was looking at her potential dating life with brand-new eyes after her epiphany of not needing a guy to have a full and happy life. “No, it just…wasn’t meant to be.”

At first, she’d hoped maybe there was a chance she and Beckham could still be friends after he had cooled off about the book and they could talk it through, but he’d avoided her completely for the last couple of weeks at work. Once she’d seen him coming down the hall with his lunch, and when he’d noticed her, he’d literally turned on his heel and gone back the other way. She had no time for that kind of nonsense. If he couldn’t even talk things out, then there really was no hope. Even in a friend, she needed a guy mature enough to have an adult conversation. She wasn’t going to play high school games.

“That sucks. I’m sorry,” Will said, sounding genuine. “But that shouldn’t stop you from being friends with me and the rest of the group. Beckham will get over himself. In the meantime, you could have a killer Mardi Gras. Come and get drunk on the power of being the distributor of the beads,” he said with dramatic flair. “The crowds will beg for your attention. People will scream at you like you’re a rock star.”

She laughed and bit her lip, considering it. She really did like the group and the whole NoPho concept. Plus, she’d never ridden on a float during Mardi Gras, and that seemed like a bucket-list item that’d be fun to check off. “Well, maybe I could—” Her phone beeped. She frowned. “Hey, can you hold on a sec?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.” She pulled the phone away from her ear to see who was calling and to make sure it wasn’t the emergency answering service for work. But it wasn’t a client. Beckham’s name lit the screen. Her heart gave a little leap and then she inwardly groaned at that reaction. She put the phone back to her ear. “Hey, Will, sorry, can I call you back?”

“No problem. Just give Mardi Gras some thought. I’ll hold the spot for you for now.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know.” They ended the call, and she clicked over to the other line. “Hello?”

“Eliza.”

Eliza.Not Eli. A pang of loss went through her.

“Yeah. Hi. What’s—”

“I need you,” he said, cutting her off, his words rushed. “Are you… Can you come over?”

I need you.The words short-circuited her brain for a second.

“Come over?” She looked down at her yoga pants and old Tulane T-shirt. “Are you serious?”

After all this silent treatment, was he makinga booty call? Because he had another thing coming if he thought he could treat her like he had and just call her up and—

“Yes, I’m sorry. I know it’s late and that we haven’t… I haven’t…talked to you. But I have a friend here and…I need your help. She does,” he clarified. “Your professional help.”

“Oh.”Oh.That came out of left field, sending Eliza’s thoughts scattering like marbles, but the distress in his voice made her instincts kick into gear before her brain caught up. “Is the friend in immediate danger? To herself or to others?”

“I… Notimmediateimmediate. I don’t think so at least. But, I just…need you here.”

His vulnerable tone sent worry through her. Any thought of the conflict between them fell away for the moment, and she went into professional mode. “Let me change my clothes, and I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, Eli. I really appreciate it.”

Eli.She closed her eyes, pushing away the feelings that drummed up.Focus.She needed to focus. He wasn’t calling because he needed her, the friend. He was calling because he needed Eliza, the therapist. She needed to keep her head on straight about that.

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