Page 97 of One Week Wingman

“C’mon, you know that’s just for show,” Dash dismisses it. “The man’s a forlorn ass without you. And don’t think I haven’t noticed your pout, too. He misses you, you miss him, can’t you just kiss and make up, and save us all the drama?”

A part of me wishes he was right, but then what? I’d be the girl chasing after some guy who couldn’t care less.

I won’t do that. I can’t.

“There’s nothing stoppinghimfrom talking tome,” I point out. “But he hasn’t, has he? Not one word, or call, or even a casual text. ‘Hey, what’s up, sorry I jumped to conclusions and said shitty things to your face, how you been?’” I mimic, laced with painful bitterness. Then I look at the both of them. “Look, I know you guys are his friends, and you have your whole bro code going on,” I add. “But this is different. Sebastian’s been acting the playboy for so long, he’s forgotten what real even looks like.”

I walk out, but I only make it a dozen steps down the sidewalk, before someone calls after me. “Wait!”

I don’t want to stop, but then Flynn catches up to me. “Roxy,” he says.

“What?”

Flynn pauses. “Look, I’ve known Seb a long time. Over ten years now. And he can come off sometimes like everything comes easy to him. It’s all a game. But you know, that’s just an act, right? Underneath…” he runs a hand over his scruffy beard. “When we were in college, I had some… family trouble,” he starts, looking away. “I didn’t talk about it with Seb, but he could tell that something was up with me. I had this insomnia, I couldn’t sleep. I would spend the night up in the student lounge, watching these old film noir movies, just trying to pass the time. And Seb, he would come sit with me. Two, three a.m. He didn’t ask questions, or even talk. He’d just show up with pizza, or Chinese food, and watch with me. So I didn’t have to be alone.”

Flynn stops. I can tell, whatever happened back then, it meant a lot to him.

“I’m just saying,” he finally continues. “Seb, he has a good heart. And life is better with him in it.”

He gives a jerky nod, and then walks away, leaving me standing there on the street corner, his words echoing in my ears.

Life is better with him in it.

I walk the rest of the way home, deep in thought. Torn between my pride and hurt feelings, and just wishing I could be with Seb again, teasing over coffee, or kissing him like nothing else mattered in the world. By the time I make it home and climb the stairs to my apartment, I’ve gone back and forth a dozen times over.

“Roxy.”

I stop dead. Because sitting cross-legged outside my door is the last person I expected to see.

Daisy.

24

ROXY

“Hey,”I say cautiously, half-braced for another dramatic accusation scene.

“Hi.” Daisy climbs to her feet. She’s not wearing makeup, she’s got purple smudges under her eyes, and she’s dressed in what we used to call ‘wallow wear’—sweats and socks and sliders. It’s not the Instagram Daisy I’m used to, it’s the little sister I used to find curled up in my room wanting all the gossip from school.

“I didn’t kiss him,” I tell her. Not for the first time. “He mauled me.”

“I know.” Daisy’s face crumples. “He’s a lying cheater, and I never want to see him again!”

She dissolves into sobs again, but these are quieter, and I can tell, for real.

“Aww, Dais.” I pull her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” She hiccups. “I had our engagement shoot outfits all picked out!”

I release her and give a sympathetic smile. “Come on in,” I tell her, fishing for my keys in my bag.

She picks her own bag up off the floor. “I brought tequila.”

Two shots later,I’ve come clean about the Stefano/Sebastian debacle, and Daisy is in full ‘scorned woman’ swing.

“I’d been in love with him forever!” she declares, gesturing dramatically. “I thought we’d be Amy and Laurie inLittle Women, but instead Timothée Chalamet is groping at Saoirse and that’s not very romantic, is it?” She takes another drink. “You’re Saoirse,” she adds. “And yes, he maybe said we were moving kind of fast, but I thought everything was perfect! This was my time! I just wanted to come first, and not just be in your shadow, like always.”

“Wait, what?” I cut her off. “When have you ever been in my shadow?”

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