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Desperate Chances

Page 58

   


My mouth dropped open in shock. “You signed a lease without telling me first? That’s messed up, Viv!”
I wasn’t sure why I was getting so mad. I had my suspicions that Cole and Vivian were looking for their own place. In fact, I had encouraged them. I hated listening to their nightly romps through the paper-thin walls. Not only was it beyond gross, but it was a depressing reminder of how alone I was. Plus, the apartment was too cramped as it was, let alone with another person always around.
And as much as I liked Cole, I would be quite happy never seeing his penis ever again. Especially considering he seemed to think nothing of waving it around.
But Vivian and I had lived together for the better part of five years. I had grown accustomed to her crazy habits and vapid ways. I felt as though things were changing faster than I was ready for.
Vivian got up and hugged me, her pretty face contrite. “I’m so sorry, G. I should have told you sooner.” She squeezed me tighter. “I wasn’t even sure we were really going to do it. I think part of me is scared to make the step. I mean, it’s Cole Brandt, former slut extraordinaire.”
“And the man who loves you more than anything,” I reminded her.
Vivian sighed. “I know. I guess I just keep waiting for him to balk at the commitment.”
I understood her trepidation. She had Cole, as passionate and in love as they were, had one hell of a rocky start. But that was their past. I had no idea Viv still held onto those fears.
“He’s not letting you go, Vivian. You have nothing to worry about. He’s learned his lesson. He’s a lot quicker on the uptake than some of us.” I gave a self-deprecating laugh.
Vivian leaned her head against mine. “There’s nothing wrong with taking your time to get it right, babe.”
“Tell that to Mitch,” I muttered.
“He’s a dumbass and as much as I love him, he’s being a twat face,” Vivian quipped.
I didn’t want this to become yet another exhaustive discussion about Mitch I-like-to-call-you-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-twist-up-your-insides Abrams.
“First Maysie and Jordan get a house together now you and Cole are shacking up. Everyone’s growing up,” I whined but gave her a smile to let her know I didn’t hold it against her or anything. Well, not entirely. Maybe just a little.
“Stuff is changing really fast, sometimes I can barely keep up,” Vivian agreed.
“It seems like just yesterday we were tagging along with Maysie to Barton’s to hear the guys play. Now all my friends are settling down. I feel like I’m a little behind the curve here,” I remarked jokingly.
Vivian sat up and gave me a stern look. “You’re not behind the curve, Gracie. Don’t start that nonsense. But this is part of life. We grow up. We settle down. We build our lives. You’re doing the same. You’ve got a great job. Now you’ll have your own place. It’s like you’ll be a real, live grown up.” She lightly punched my arm.
“Oh wow. Do I get a membership card and everything?”
“I know you have this thing about being left out because Maysie’s with Jordan, Riley’s with Garrett, and I’m with Cole, but that’s just dumb. You’re our G. You’re important to all of us. Some more than others.” She gave me her wolfish smile.
“It’ll be strange around here without worrying about seeing Cole’s white ass first thing in the morning,” I sighed dramatically.
Vivian laughed and then she became serious. “I’ll miss you, G. We’ve been across the hall from each other for years. But that just means you’ll have to come over for sleepovers.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not twelve, Viv.”
Vivian hugged me again. “You’re my sister, Gracie. Always. Forever. Nothing will ever change that. Not boys. Not growing up and having families. You and me and Maysie and Riley are constant. We’re a team.”
I sniffled, not able to help the tears that misted my eyes. “Stop it. I have to go to work and I don’t want red eyes and smeared mascara,” I scolded her, not really meaning it.
Vivian smoothed down my hair and kissed my cheek. “Go use that skin cream before you go. Trust me.” I stuck out my tongue but did as I was told. Because damn it, she was right.
I had twenty minutes to grab lunch and get back at the office. That wasn’t enough time to stand in line somewhere so I was forced to run to the grocery store on the corner and grab a salad.
I stood in the aisle trying to choose between a wilted Caesar salad and slightly more wilted Cobb salad. Neither looked appealing and I had a feeling it was going to be a random pick from the machine kind of lunch.
I glanced at the time on my phone and saw that I only had twelve minutes left until I had to be back for the meeting.
Working out of the Southern Garden office was taking some getting used to. It was my first job with regular hours. Freelancing didn’t require a skirt and blouse and working at the coffee shop before that certainly didn’t involve staff meetings and brainstorming sessions.
It was exciting. For the first time in years I felt invigorated. Like I was a part of something.
I had my head down, flipping through my calendar to see what else I had today when I walked right into the last person in the word I would ever want to see.
It was more a crashing of bodies that resulted in the other person dropping their basket of groceries.
“Oh crap, I’m so sorry,” I gasped, falling to my knees and hastily picking up cans of soup, a box of tampons, and four giant packs of Twizzlers.