TWENTY
Elijah
“God, I’m an idiot.”
I sit in my truck, idling outside of Hartley’s place. I’ve been sitting here for five minutes trying to figure out what the hell I should do. I don’t think that I’m going to figure it out in the next five minutes since I’ve been thinking about it all day.
Last night was incredible. Best night of my life. Even when I woke up with Hartley’s hair in my face and her elbow digging into my arm, it had still been great. Like a dream.
Then it had hit me.
What happens now? Was last night just a fluke for Hartley? Does she still not want a relationship? Would she want a friends with benefits thing instead? Jeez, why can’t I just be better with women?
I had gotten dressed quietly and been halfway through scribbling her a note when she had woken up. I wasn’t sure how to react, so I had just said that I had to go grab my parents and would see her later.
She had seemed normal. Maybe things were a little awkward or weird between us, but it’s hard to tell when she was still half asleep and I was bolting for the door. Maybe I made it weird?
My phone rings and I grab it, praying that it’s Hartley.
It’s not.
“Hey, Patrick. What’s up?” I ask as I stare up at Hartley’s apartment.
None of the lights are on and my gut starts to churn. Is she alright?
“Hey, I’m just calling to check-in. Brennan has missed seeing you. How’s your parents and Hartley? How was the wedding?”
“I slept with Hartley,” I blurt out.
There’s silence on the other end of the line and then I hear some shuffling.
“Okay, sorry, I had to take you off speakerphone. Thanks for that, by the way. Really looking forward to explaining what that means to Brennan later tonight,” he says sarcastically and I wince.
“Sorry, man. I’m just freaking out here. We agreed to no relationships when we started this and she hasn’t said that she wants to change that.”
“But you do?”
“No. Well, I don’t know. I really like her,. Besides you and Brennan, she’s my closest friend,” I say as I bang my head against the headrest.
“Then tell her. Swoop her up in your arms and confess your undying like for her. Girls love that.”
“How would you know? You have less experience with women than me.”
“And yet, I’m the one you turn to when you need advice.”
“Point taken,” I grumble.
“So, take my advice and tell her that you want this to be real.”
“I don’t want this to be real. I just don’t want to lose my friend,” I say quickly.
“Whatever you say, man. Just know that Hartley is a catch. She’s pretty, funny, kind, charming, patient, can cook—”
“Okay, I get it. She’s perfect and I’m me. What’s your point?”
“My point, is that there’s going to be other guys who man up and ask her out. Who can admit their feelings for her. Do you really want to watch her walk around town with some other guy?”
My stomach and fists clench just thinking about it.