Wasted Words by Staci Hart
“Then what’s the matter?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and sniffed, meet her eyes for only a millisecond before looking away. “I don’t know, Rose…” I struggled to find the words, flashes of the night before rolling through my mind. “I’m just really confused.”
“What happened?”
“We went to the party and everything was fine. Great, even. I felt right with him. But then I ran into his friend who told me — not for the first time, mind you — that I’m not for Tyler. He said Tyler was going to get bored and move on. That I’m not his type.”
She blinked, surprised. “What a dick. Why would he say that to you?”
I shrugged. “He’s not wrong.”
“I dunno. I can’t believe that Tyler would get bored and up and leave anyone.”
“I don’t belong in the same universe as him. Caring about him isn’t enough, Rose. I’m not enough. Being with him last night just proved it. You should have seen his ex. You know that meat sock dress I tried on the other day?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Yeah.”
“Well, she had on the Armani version of it, and she looked like she walked off the cover of Vanity Fair.”
“So?”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand, Rose. Look at you. You’re beautiful and edgy and smart, and guys love you — I mean, you legit have one of the hottest guys in Manhattan plowing you with his pierced dick.”
A laugh shot out of her. “Oh, my God.”
“But that’s not me,” I said, forging on. “I don’t date the hot guys. I did that once and I got burned. I get the guys who are prematurely balding and play Diablo, not the beautiful ex-football players. I’m way out of my league, and when he realizes it, when he leaves me …” I swallowed again, my nose burning. “I don’t think I can recover from that, Rose.”
“So you end it before it’s begun?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to end it.”
“No, but if you keep this up you won’t have a choice. You have Tyler Knight tripping all over himself to convince you that he wants to be with you. What’s the problem here?”
“Me.” I said sadly.
Rose rolled her chair over to the file cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Maker’s. “You need a drink.” She rolled back and picked up my empty coffee cup, wiping the inside off with her sweatshirt sleeve before pouring a finger of whiskey.
“It’s eight in the morning, Rose.”
“So what?”
She held it out like it was medicine, and I took it with a sigh. It burned when I sipped it.
“Ah, ah. Drink up, kid.”
I rolled my eyes and took the shot, eyes pinching shut against the heat.
“Okay,” she said, “so I want to know two things. First, did you tell Tyler what his friend said? And second, what happened to you before that messed you up so bad?”
I rubbed my face, hating myself. “No, I didn’t tell Tyler what he said. What good would it do?”
“For as smart as you are, you’re being a real dummy,” she said flatly, with love. “He would want to know. Wouldn’t you want to know if someone warned him off of you?”
I sniffed. “Yeah.”
“You have to tell him, even if it’s only so he can tell you it’s not true.”
“You really think it will help?”
“Absolutely. Now tell me about whatever else has you twisted up.”
I blew out a breath. “You know how I’m all about sorting people?”
She nodded.
“Well, I think really I’ve been sorting myself, trying to keep myself safe from getting hurt again.” I told her all about Will, about the shame, about how I felt like such a fool while she sat and listened, eyes sad.
When I was finished, she didn’t say anything, not right away. She grabbed my coffee cup and reached for the whiskey again. “You need another drink.”
She passed it over, nodding at me when I hesitated.
I sighed and took a sip, and I was glad she didn’t make me shoot it again.
“Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and I need you to hear me.”
I nodded.
She leaned forward. “Come closer.”
I leaned forward too, cracking a hint of a smile.
She looked me dead in the eye and said, “Tyler is not Will.”
I swallowed hard.
“Do you hear me? He’s not Will. The rules you made? The shelves people belong on? You’ve created them yourself. You’ve built your own prison out of something imaginary, and you ended up hurt anyway.”
Tears welled up, and I blinked them back. “You’re right,” I said quietly.
“Yes, I am.” She sighed. “You need to talk to him.”
I sank back into my chair. “We’ve talked it to death, Rose.”
“Well, then talk to its ghost. You can’t just pack it up and shut him down. Did you guys …”
I nodded, feeling sick at the thought of bringing it up to him again. You promised. “Last night. It was …” I blinked against the stinging in the corners of my eyes. “He’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I still don’t see a problem here.” Her gaze was hard as she waited for an answer I didn’t have.
“I told you. I’m a mess. I’m hung up on a million stupid things, and it’s making me crazy. And my crazy is hurting him. I don’t know what to do, how to make it right. I mean, how do you rationalize something that’s irrational? I feel completely out of control.”