His Best Friend's Sister - Page 41

“Dinner’s here,” he said, dropping the bag on the table and sitting in the chair across from me.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” I said. It was partially true. I was starving, but I wasn’t in the mood to eat.

“Me either,” Tyler said.

“I am so, so sorry,” I choked out, the tears finally starting to well up and cascade down my cheeks. “This is all my fault.”

“No, Becca, no. This isn’t your fault,” Tyler said, scooting closer, but I turned away from him, burying my eyes into my palms as my elbows rested on the table. “This is your brother’s fault. One hundred percent. You can’t beat yourself up over how he reacts. That’s his responsibility, not yours. You shouldn’t have to police yourself for his feelings.”

“But you two are best friends,” I argued. “You have been practically your whole lives. And I ruined it. Possibly for good. And I am so, so sorry.” Tyler looked like he was going to argue, but I stood up suddenly. “I think I should go.”

“Go where?” Tyler said, standing with me.

“I am going to go stay at Melissa’s,” I said as calmly as I could. “I just need some time to think.”

I turned and headed for the bedroom, nearly breaking down when I saw the clothes on the floor that we scattered when we’d jumped into the shower. I scooped mine up and found my suitcase, tossing them in. Tyler came to the door as I began emptying the other drawer.

“When will I see you again?” he asked. His voice broke as he said it, and it tore my heart apart.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I just need some time to think.”

I finished packing and made my way back to the living room. Tyler stayed with me the whole time, occasionally trying to ask me to stop, but I was determined. I needed to get out of there and somewhere neutral. There was so much guilt roiling through me that I didn’t know how to handle it.

As I got into the living room, Tyler ran after me, grabbing the food that was still in the bag on the table.

“Here, at least take this,” he said. “I know you’re hungry. Or you will be.”

I took the bag, unable to think clearly about how sweet a gesture it was. I couldn’t let myself think about it, or else I wouldn’t go. I wouldn’t have the willpower.

“Thank you,” I muttered and walked out of the door. Briefly, I glanced at the stone where the emergency key sat, and then I walked past it, heading to my car. Struggling not to let the tears fall until I got to Melissa’s, I started the engine and pulled away without looking back at the house where I knew Tyler stood on the porch. Because of course he would.

I made it to Melissa’s on autopilot and seriously couldn’t even remember the drive when I put the car in park. Everything was a blur. As I knocked on the door, she answered wearing a pair of footie pajamas and holding a glass of wine. She didn’t say a word when she saw my face. She didn’t need to. She held the door open for me and shut it behind us.

21

Tyler

It had been a week.

A long, miserable, no-good, terrible week. Becca hadn’t called, emailed, messaged on social media, texted, anything. She hadn’t even been active online. She completely ghosted me, and I sat around doing a whole lot of nothing wondering what I could do about it.

On one hand, she said she needed her space, and I understood that. I respected that.

I got why she would avoid talking to me for a few days while she tried to process things. I got why it would take some time for her figure out exactly what it was she wanted to do going forward. But I at least thought by a week, I would hear something. Anything. Even if it was just her telling me she had to end it with me.

But I had nothing.

So, I tried to go on with everyday life. I went to work, I researched college courses, I went to the gym. All the hallmarks of normal life save one. Nick was also missing in action. Granted, I saw that one coming. After the fight we’d had, and the fact that he’d seemed to see right through us telling him nothing was going on, I figured that either our friendship was over, or it had at least hit a road bump that a simple week wouldn’t fix.

As I cleaned the bar after the lunch shift, waiting for a couple to clear out so we could close for midday, Mason came up and told me I could go on break if I wanted. I declined and waited until the couple were paid for and left before finally taking off my apron and heading to the back. I made myself a sandwich and grabbed a soda and sat down at one of the booths.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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