Page 30 of Choose Me

"He's fine. He's just unable to call you because he is currently passed out on the bathroom floor."

"What? Why?" I turned to see Everett coming in to stand next to me, concern on his face.

Brock's voice was filled with guilt as he explained, "It's my fault, mostly. It was my promotion celebration, and we drank a lot. Apparently, he's a lightweight. I just wanted to call you because he was freaking out that he needed to call and let you know he was okay, but his phone was dead, so I plugged it in to get a charge, or I would have called you sooner."

"Okay," I replied quietly, unsure what to say, before adding, "I guess tell him to call me when he sobers up."

"Of course." Brock apologized sincerely. “I’m so sorry, Ava. I'll take care of him."

"Thanks." The line disconnected, and I set the phone down heavily on the countertop.

Everett put his arm around me, sensing my unease. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Yeah, he's just passed out. I guess he drank too much, and he's with Brock, so that's good. It's just weird that he didn't call me at all or at least check in with me until he went to the promotion celebration. He normally checks in, and now he's drunk to the point of passing out. I don't know. I feel like something else is going on that he isn't telling me."

"Don't stress yourself out. Brock is a good dude, and they have a history. If he says everything is okay, I promise it is."

"Yeah, you're right."

"I usually am." He teased.

I gave him a small smile, but I couldn't help but feel frustrated with James for getting so drunk. Not only getting drunk to the point of being unable to call but not even checking in with me. Before he left, we agreed to stay in regular contact, especially with everything happening. It felt like I was holding up my end of the bargain, but he wasn't. I am a patient person, and I understand that there are things he doesn't tell me about his job or the cases he is working on, and I accept that. I respect his reasons for not doing so. However, the calls and texts were becoming less frequent, and he was increasingly tight-lipped about his day and what he had been doing. I felt like something was off, and my intuition was usually correct.

I turned toward Everett and hugged him. "Thank you for everything. I don't know what I would do without you right now."

"I'm always here for you," he replied with a gentle smile.

"I know. And that's one of the reasons I love you." My heart raced as I spoke the words, feeling their weight like a boulder on my soul. I closed my mouth abruptly, trying to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks, but it was too late. Everett saw through me, his eyes burning with something deeper than friendship. Everett had been like a brother to me, and I didn't have that before meeting him. We teased each other like siblings, and I knew I could always depend on him when push came to shove. Since he had become our roommate, our bond had become stronger, and I relied on him more than I cared to admit. I could take care of myself, but having someone to sit up late with and talk to or bring home food for me when I had a pregnancy craving was nice. He never asked for more from me, but I saw how he looked at me, how he had always looked at me.

Meaningful looks and gentle touches replaced the expected sexual jokes he always made. He would do anything for me. He was mature and understanding, and most importantly, he was available to me when I needed him. It didn't matter the time or the place; he would drop everything he was doing and do whatever he could to make life easier for me. James was always busy in Miami, and as much as I wanted to support him, I was finding it difficult to continue to do so. James hadn't asked about my doctor's appointment a couple of days ago, and when I told him about it, he seemed distracted and nonchalant. I couldn't help but feel hurt. The loneliness I felt in his absence was painful, but I managed. But feeling like I was alone in this pregnancy hurt more. The hurt I was feeling festered inside of me like an infected wound.

Everett hugged me back, his arms wrapped tightly around me. "I'm always here for you, Ava. You know that, right?"

I nodded, tears streaming down my face again. "I know. I feel so alone right now. James is distant, and I don't know what to do."

"Hey, hey, shh." Everett pulled back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. "I know James doesn't mean to be distant. He's in Miami working his ass off to get home to you. If he seems distant, it's because he is focused on his work and not because he loves you any less. Trust me."

I leaned into his touch, feeling comforted by his words. "Thank you, Everett," I whispered.

"You're not alone. You have me. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what." He whispered against the top of my head.

I let him hold me for a few minutes before starting to pull away, and as I did, I caught a flicker of something in his eyes that made me pause. Was it hurt? Disappointment? I couldn't quite tell, and it made me feel guilty. I did love him, but it was a different kind of love. The type of love that was unconditional and familiar, and I couldn't change that. But as I looked at him, I saw that he was offering me something more, something more profound than just friendship, and I wasn't ready to accept it.

Everett cleared his throat, "Do you want some ice cream? I picked up your favorite Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough on my way home from work."

I smiled, grateful for the topic shift. "Yes, please."

As he stayed in the kitchen, I sat on the couch and thought about everything happening. James' behavior worried me, and I didn't know how to address it. I knew he was under a lot of stress at work, but it felt like he was pulling away from me. And then there was Everett, who had been a constant source of support for me. I didn't know what I would do without him. But I also didn't want to lead him on or hurt him. At the same time, some feelings were growing, and I couldn't explain them, nor did they make sense. Not only was he my best friend, but he was the best friend of the man I was in love with, and they had a deeper friendship than mine with Everett. I felt like I had all of these conflicting emotions that were rooted deep, and I was struggling to quiet them.

Thankfully, Everett came in with a bowl and spoon and handed it to me. "I added whipped cream and extra sprinkles, just like you like it."

"You're a saint." I praised him and took a big bite of my ice cream.

As I savored the cold, creamy goodness of the ice cream, I couldn't help but feel guilty for the thoughts swirling around in my head. I loved James and knew I always would, but my feelings for Everett were also real. I couldn't imagine my life without either of them, but the thought of hurting either of them made me feel sick to my stomach. I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on the present moment.

I was playing with fire, and sooner or later, the blaze would consume my soul.

18

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