I’d been certain I’d wake up the next morning feeling right as rain.
No such luck.
And I’d found myself at a loss.
He’d texted me the day after, and I’d blown him off again, citing work, which wasn’t a complete lie. He’d called me too, which I’d sent to voicemail like a coward. And then … then he quit messaging me altogether.
So I hadn’t gotten in touch with him. But he hadn’t gotten in touch with me either.
I tried to pretend like that didn’t break my heart.
I didn’t even know if we were good anymore. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I’d made him mad — I’d pushed him away, and if the tables were turned, I’d be pissed too. Or maybe he was just playing defense on whatever he thought I was playing with him.
What if I never heard from him again?
Part of me — a big part of me — almost called him at that question alone. But what would I say about the last few days? Should I say I’d been busy? Should I tell him I’d been feeling things and risk his reaction?
What if he didn’t want me like I wanted him? And what if he did? Could I be with him in the real way? Could I give him what he wanted, what he deserved?
I didn’t even know anymore, but I’d had a lot of time to think about it.
If it were any other guy at any other time in my life, I’d have called on my little black book for comfort, but I’d rather have shaved with a rusty razor and risked tetanus. The thought of being with anyone else, even calling anyone else, made me feel sticky and gross.
That was its own bad sign.
Of course, the problem wasn’t even really a problem. I wanted to be Bodie’s girlfriend, but (A) I was crazy, and (B) I couldn’t seem to find a way to admit that out loud to him.
Space was supposed to make me feel better.
Wrong.
And now it was all topped by anxiety that I’d fucked up.
I’d blown my dream guy off. And why?
Peggy. That’s why.
Ramona floated into the shop, tanned and glowing and smiling as she said hello to everyone. I practically shot across the room and scooped her into a hug.
“You’re back!” I cheered, nuzzling her like a puppy. “I missed you.”
She laughed. “I missed you too. Look at your hair!” she said when she leaned back.
I smoothed it, smiling. “You like it?”
“I do. Does that mean …”
My brow quirked. “It means it felt like it was time for a change.”
“Right.” Ramona didn’t stop assessing me, but she changed the subject. I thought at least. “How’s everything going?”
“Fine, who cares, whatever! Tell me about your honeymoon!”
She laughed. “You act like we haven’t talked every day since I left.”
“I can’t help it; I’m codependent.” I hooked my arm in hers to walk back to my station. “Did you let him stick it in your butt?”
That one got a cackle out of her. “It’s like the one time I can’t refuse.”
“That, and his birthday.”
“Fortunately, he’s a gentle lover when it comes to ringing at the back door. Like maybe the only time he’s gentle.”
“Psh, lucky.”
She squeezed me. “I missed you.”
I squeezed her back. “You already said that.”
“Well, it deserved saying twice. Now tell me what’s been going on around here. You know all about Tahiti and honeymoon anal, so spill the deal.”
“So,” I said as we passed Veronica’s station, “Ronnie is acting super weird. She’s had plans.”
Ramona’s face quirked, and she looked around me to Veronica, who waved excitedly but was in the middle of a piece and couldn’t get up.
“Weird,” Ramona said quietly. “Maybe she’s seeing someone.”
“Maybe. I can’t exactly blame her for not telling me either. I’d charbroil her for information. Fricasseed.”
Ramona giggled, and we rounded my wall. She took a seat in my chair, and I sat on my saddle stool, so relieved to see her.
“So,” Ramona started, “how’s Bodie?”
My nose wrinkled. “We haven’t really talked much since the wedding.”
Her brows dropped. “Why not?”
I shifted to lean on my desk. “Because I’m a mess, and I ruin things.”
She didn’t answer, which forced me to keep talking. That asshole.
“I dunno, Ramona. I don’t know what I’m doing. He got busy with work, so I didn’t see him for a couple of days, and I bugged out. Like butthurt and needy and demented. I just figured a little space would do me good.”
“Has it?”
I groaned. “No. I mean, yes. But no.”
She sighed and gave me a loving look. “Just call him, Penny.”
“But I’m unhinged! I don’t do alone. I’m co-dependent and psychotic, and this is why I don’t have boyfriends. You know this!”
“I know this. You’ve just got to get over it.”
I laughed. “That’s cute, Mona.”
“I’m serious. You can’t go dying your hair and then find a new guy every time things get hard.”