“Knock it off. Gray is a trendy color.”

“It’s forgettable. And that’s all you wear. Therefore, it makes you forgettable.” She pocketed her phone, and I studied her outfit.

She was in a pink baby-T with black sweats, tan Uggs, and sunglasses on top of her head. She wasn’t my go-to for fashion, but I loved how she owned her look. She never tried to fit a mold, which I admired. Being the only girl in her family, her parents thought she would be this feminine beauty queen, but that wasn’t the case. She marched to the beat of her own drum and didn’t apologize for it.

I wished I could do that, but my self-consciousness and need to please others left me behind a wall of insecurity. I felt it was better to hide my needs and focus on other people because then I couldn’t get hurt. If I didn’t voice my thoughts, then I couldn’t get upset if someone didn’t do what I expected. If they didn’t know, then their inattention was my fault and not theirs. Sure, the math didn’t always math, but mostly, it kept me safe.

“It's fine with me if I'm not remembered. I don’t need to be the center of attention.” I gave her a pointed stare, and she shrugged.

“Who says that’s what I want? I can’t help that I catch people’s eye.” She was right, though.

People would take notice of her no matter what she was wearing. Her confidence commanded the room.

“Regardless, please back off and let me figure out my own dating life.”

“Shy, you deserve to be happy. It gets hard watching you each Saturday afternoon listen to Devon and me talk about our love lives. I want you to get to join in on the fun.”

I wanted to be angry, but she probably believed what she was feeling—I needed to be with someone to be happy. That wasn’t true. Of course, I would like to share my life with someone who gave me butterflies but also calmed me down—someone who loved me for who I was and not what I could do for them. But my fear of rejection was so much greater than my need for acceptance that I found contentment in my comfort zone, which didn’t include putting myself out there. There was safety in staying in my bubble, which was worth more than the possibilities outside of it.

“Where is this coming from? Do you think I don’t have fun with you?” Sonya and I had contrasting personalities, but ultimately, I knew she loved me and had my back.

“Do you? Because sometimes you sit with us and never even crack a smile. If I’m honest, I feel judged.”

I had to hide my shocked expression. That seemed off base, but I wouldn’t invalidate her feelings.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way, but I would never judge you. If I’m quiet, it’s just because I’m listening.” That might have been a half-truth.

If I recalled all my interactions with her, I might have formulated opinions about her decisions, but I never said them out loud. Did that make me a liar?

“It’s fine. I probably do need to be smacked upside the head from time to time. But I’d rather live the life I want than worry about what others think—it’s freeing. And I want that for you.” She was adamant that I needed to change, but change was scary, and I didn’t want to do it.

“Thanks. But can we drop this? I’m good where I’m at.” I let out a weighted breath because the more she talked, the less I believed the lies I was telling myself.

“I’ll let it go.”

“Thank—”

She cut in before I could finish my sentiment. “If… you meet with Caz. Even just once. Let’s see what she has to offer, and then you can decide how to handle things.” That wasn’t unreasonable, and it would be worth it if it got her off my back.

“Fine. But only one time, right?” There was no way I was signing up for anything else.

“Yes.” She held her hand out for me to shake, and I was glad this inquisition was over without any further reference to why I was here.

“I’m meeting Devon for lunch. You want to come?” Sonya stood, waiting for my reply.

I peeked toward the counter and realized Ember was gone. She could have been on break, or maybe she was off for the day. Either way, I hated that I missed her and wished I could have said goodbye—at least in my head.

She turned in the direction of my gaze and sighed. “Coffee chick will be here next week. Let’s go.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I slid out of my seat, trying to be nonchalant. But despite my efforts, I could feel my face betraying me with a flicker of emotion in response to her accusation.

“Right. Of course not.” She put a finger to her lips, like she was keeping a secret that everyone knew.

I pushed away the thought that Ember was likely aware of my feelings and concentrated on the possibility that Caz might help me win her heart.

Chapter 5Caz

After leaving Java Jives, I went straight home and put my pajamas back on. Even though I felt like I needed a nap when I was out, I think the caffeine had kicked in because now I wasn’t tired. My body always seemed to work like that, though—I couldn’t sleep when I wanted to, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open when I needed to. Go figure.

As I turned on the television and wrapped myself in a warm blanket on the couch, the angry growl of my stomach reminded me that all I’d had today was copious amounts of coffee. I had little food in the house, so I ordered in. It was easier than cooking for one, and I didn’t have to talk to anyone because I could do it all online.

I placed an order at a local bistro for my favorite charcuterie board. Sure, it was equivalent to an overpriced adult Lunchables, but I loved all the different meats and cheeses, and it seemed like a better option than fast food. The older I got, the more inclined I was to be healthy.

When I was younger, I didn’t worry about what I put into my body. I had many vices that stemmed from not giving a fuck and Davia. I didn’t blame her for my choices, but she loved to party, and I loved her, so I found myself doing shit I never imagined. Getting drunk and high were her normal activities, and eventually, they were a part of my routine.

It didn’t help that my job put me in strange situations, and I became reliant on something outside of myself to calm my nerves, which usually involved alcohol or weed. But when Davia and I split and I realized how much money I had spent and how many days I had lost due to blackouts or memory loss, I didn’t want that life anymore. Besides, if I went to my old haunts, I would inevitably run into Davia, and she was the last person I wanted to see.

I enjoyed seeing her in my mind when I needed a release, but it was a hard pass in real life. Davia was like a painting: visually captivating, yet lacking depth that could engage more than your eyes. I thought I loved her, but it was more of a superficial infatuation that lasted five years longer than it should have. Most of the impractical things I owned today were to impress her.

She told me I could be a star if I lived like one, and I believed her. I thought she had my best interests in mind and was supporting me. I didn’t realize she wanted me to rise to the top and bring her with me. Not out of love for me, but out of selfishness. She thought I could help her earn money just by being beautiful. She didn’t need me to tell people she was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that.

It wasn’t about how she looked but about who she knew, and I had the connections she needed. Once she made a name for herself, I became redundant, and she was gone. I continued to see her face everywhere, which used to hurt when she first left. But I have healed somewhat, and now I passive-aggressively thought about fucking her. Maybe that wasn’t healthy, but it had to be better than being hurt or angry.

It wasn’t like I wanted her back, but I also didn’t want anyone else, so it seemed like a justified response.

When I heard a tap on the door, I waited a few minutes to ensure they were gone before I retrieved my food. I had told them no contact on the app, but sometimes they would linger, so I learned not to rush to get it.

That sounded like I hated everyone, which wasn’t exactly true. I could only have my people persona for so long, and I used that all up for work. Being off was my only time to recharge, and I had to do that alone.

After I grabbed the takeout, I started to text Matrix to let him know about the change in plans, but before I could message him, someone sent me something first.

Shorty: Sorry about earlier. I would like to reschedule if you’re down. I got cold feet, but I’m feeling better now.

The excuse sounded weak, and it didn’t seem sincere.

Me: You stood me up. How do I know you’re not playing games?

Shorty: I didn’t stand you up. I just didn’t properly introduce myself.

Was that an implication that she was the girl I had spoken with? My suspicions were high.

Me: Video call me.

At least this way, I wouldn’t have to get out of my house, and I’d be able to tell if she was lying.

Shorty: Now?

Me: Yes.