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.Lately I had been feeling angrier than usual, but really? I’d be in there with people who got into bar fights and such, and I hadn’t even gotten to throw a punch.Seemed unfair to say the least.Cupid came over and dropped his head onto my lap as if he knew I needed him.After the whole apartment debacle, I’d found myself at Brendan’s door.Last night I’d been so comfortable, and while I’d still hesitated to let myself in, eventually I decided it was better than having a breakdown somewhere public enough that Phoebe would somehow find out and put it in print.My phone rang and I glanced at the display.I answered when I saw it was Valentina, crossing my fingers that she wasn’t having another hair emergency.Then again, maybe focusing on solving someone else’s problems would make me feel better.“Hey, I was hoping I could email you my engagement photos so you could help me pick which one I should go with.”“I’d be happy to.” I pulled my laptop out of my bag.The wifi was secured with a password—should’ve known Brendan would be into security in every aspect of his life.The chime on my phone went off, letting me know I’d gotten her email.I tried to look at her photos, but I hated to give an opinion on them when I couldn’t see them on a bigger screen.After a moment of going back and forth, I asked Valentina if I could call her back in a few minutes.Then I texted Brendan, explaining I was at his place to check on Cupid and was hoping to sneak in a little work but needed his wifi password.My phone chimed within a couple of seconds.Brendan: I’m starting to think you’re a spy.For the first time in hours, I actually smiled.Me: Damn, my secret is out.Considering I can’t even break into your internet, I’m not a very good one, though.This leaves me no choice but to use my impressive physical strength.I know a hundred ways to kill a guy simply by looking at him, so we can do this the hard way or the easy way.Brendan: I have no doubt that’s true.I know I should just give in now, what with the impressive strength and all, but I prefer a challenge.Me: Of course you do.How about an exchange? Chinese food for the password, and I won’t have to kill you.Tonight, anyway.No promises after.Brendan: Deal.As soon as I logged on, I pulled up all the pictures and looked through every one.They were beautiful, and her hair was perfection, thanks to Raquel’s magic with the scissors and hair dye.There was only one thing missing, and I kept waiting for it to show up.Beautiful scenery that contrasted with the couple’s outfits—check.Airbrushing that made them look flawless but not inhuman—check.Cute poses with hand-holding, intense gazing, and kissing—check.But a hollow hole opened up inside me, just like at Erika’s wedding.While I’d never admit to having favorite brides, of course I did.This was Valentina.Fun, easygoing, and super nice despite her social status Valentina.The girl I’d bonded over Thai food with on our very first appointment because we’d both played soccer in high school and could quote Bend It Like Beckham ad nauseum.It should be different with her.But as I stared at the images on my screen, I got the same feeling I’d get looking at a nice painting at a museum.Totally detached, no desire to squeal and think about how that couple was one step closer to committing their lives to each other.I amped myself up for the call before dialing Valentina’s number and forced as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could.Regardless of my inability to get excited, my ability to see a picture and know if it’d work well with the invitations she’d picked was at least there.We chose one for the paper, one for the wedding invitations, and I suggested printing and framing a few to hang up at the reception.When she wanted to talk about other wedding details, I told her I had another appointment to get to and that she should set up an office appointment for next week, hoping by then I’d be back to normal and be the wedding planner she deserved.Once I hung up, sitting still become impossible—I could practically feel the to-do list on my phone glaring at me, reminding me how much I’d left incomplete for the day.All of the rest of the items were wedding-related, though.I looked around the room.Compared to Stoner Boy’s apartment, the place was clean, but it could still use some straightening.Brendan wouldn’t be home for hours, the last place I wanted to go was my office, and if I headed to Jillian’s I’d only have the fact that I had no space of my own shoved in my face, along with another side of guilt over her having to deal with it and me.So I lined up Brendan’s remotes, took his mail to join the other pile on the counter, and put it all in a neat stack.Then I found a bowl for his fruit.Once I got started, I couldn’t stop myself.Right now, cleaning up was the only thing I could control, so I was going to control the hell out of it.…I woke up to the sound of a key sliding into the door, and it took me a moment to realize I was on the couch at Brendan’s.It was the best rest I’d gotten in weeks, too—the cushions more embraced me than conspired to toss me off.Cupid lifted his head when Brendan came in, but then dropped it back onto the arm of the chair he’d claimed—they were already buds, but apparently not enough to interrupt his nap to greet him.Brendan tugged his tie loose and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt as if a second longer might cut off his supply of oxygen, and glanced around.“Did you…clean my place?”When I was in the middle of “being in control,” I wasn’t thinking that I might also be crossing a line.I slowly sat up.“I had a bad day, and then I just started organizing and scrubbing, and one thing led to another, and…”Oh my gosh, I’m a total weirdo! So many times, I’d marveled at Brendan, the kid I knew all grown up, but as he arched his eyebrows and rubbed his fingers across his stubbled jaw, all I could think about was that he was a hot guy I’d shown my crazy side to.I’d gone through his mail and cupboards and scrubbed his counters to a sheen you could see your reflection in.No doubt he was rethinking this whole arrangement and wondering where the girl he used to toss around a football with went.“I’m sorry.This haze that blocks my common sense settles over me when I start organizing or cleaning—it’s a sickness, really [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]