Page 125 of Betting on You

Me: Charlie’s apartment.

Nekesa: Where is Charlie?

Me: No idea.

Nekesa: Oh God—I’m on my way. Drop me the address.

While I waited for Nekesa, my mind replayed the night overand over again. And I grew more and more conflicted. Because hadn’t we admitted our feelings? Hadn’t we moved toward something new?

So what did it mean that my texting buddy had yet to respond?

Quit being paranoid,I told myself.

After Nekesa picked me up, she drove to Starbucks so she could “breathe for an ungrounded five minutes” while I told her what was going on.

And tell her I did; I told her everything.

I told her about the proposal, about Charlie picking me up, about sweet blanket forts, and about making out.

After she choked on her coffee, she scratched her eyebrow and said, “But the only actual words you said were that you had more-than-coworkerly feelings, right?”

Oh God.Those reallywerethe only words we’d said.

More than coworkerly.That was hardly a love confession.

Had I been so emotional that I’d interpreted something that was nothing to be something? My heart sank—shit, shit, shit—as I considered what she was saying.

But he’d been so sweet, and I’d felt so close to him; surely it meant more than just “non-coworkerly.” The kiss—hell, the kisses—definitely didn’t feel coworkerly.

Right?

I swallowed and said, “Right.”

She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth and said, “Is it possible he was literally talking about his funny ‘we’re only coworkers, not friends’ shtick?”

“No,” I said, doubting myself as I said it. “I mean…yes, it’s possible, but you weren’t there. The chemistry—”

“You were alone in the apartment, in the dark, lying together on a bed.” Nekesa raised her eyebrows and said, “He’s aguy, Bay. Sometimes they say things—”

“No.”No.I shook my head and said, “It wasn’t like that. He was the one who stopped things.”

“I’m just saying that you two might’ve seen the night differently, that’s all.”

I kept hearing her words on the way home—could she be right?Hadwe? Had it been something less meaningful to him than it’d been to me?

And why in the hell isn’t he texting me back?

As soon as she pulled up in front of my building, all thoughts of Charlie disappeared because it was time to go face reality.

God, Isodidn’t want to do this.

I knew my mom well enough to know she was going to hug me and tell me that everything was going to be fine.

Because for her, it would be.

She was going to have a wonderful new husband.

Shit—what if Scott was inside? What if they wanted to sit downtogetherand discuss it with me?

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