“Please tell me that look on your face is because I’m late and not because I forgot the pie?”
I stare at Anthony and narrow my eyes.
“I called you here to bring me pie and lend an ear so I could bitch to you about my ex-boyfriend. All I wanted was some McAllister’s pie. Just some fucking pie!” I don’t mean to raise my voice at Anthony but everything about today is just messed up.
Valentine’s is in eight hours, and until three hours ago, I was dead set on forgiving Mikey and everything we had been arguing about over the last few days until, in the heat of the moment, he grabbed my signed Chrysknife and threw it across the room, breaking it into a million little pieces. My rare knife from Dune sat there in dead silence, scattered across the floor until Mikey had the gall to huff and roll his eyes.
I looked at him, trying to stop the steam from shooting out of my ears while trying to find my voice. All that would come out were three eerily calm words.
“Get. Out. Now.”
All he did was mumble, “Whatever, Oliver. I’m done,” and he walked out without another glance back. Not that I gave him a chance. The second he walked across the threshold, I slammed the door shut and called Anthony.
Anthony, who forgot my damn pie.
“I’m sorry, but you sounded so…lost. I kind of left Britt in a lurch and rushed here as fast as I could.” He kicks the door shut behind him. “Hey, you okay?”
I let out a sigh and walk over to my couch and plop down. “I mean, I will be, but this blows. Not only did I lose my boyfriend – an aggressive, giant, temperamental lug who only had a room in his damn head and heart for him only – I lost a rare collector’s item and got no pie. The worst part is, I miss that knife more than the most.” I take in another deep breath. Take a minute for myself. I just breathe as he sits down next to me.
“I think I’m done, Anthony. I’m just going to call it what it is and cut my losses.”
“No. You take some time and regroup. Then we go again. I’ve never lost, and I refuse to do it now, mon amie. In the words of the great Tim Allen, Never give up, ne –”
“Anthony, seriously? I’m done.”
“Nuh-uh, we’re going to put some movies on, eat some popcorn and we’ll ring in Valentines together… after I go to McAllister’s. You go take a nice long bath until I get back. Screw that asshole.”
Anthony bounces up and out the door before I can say no. . At least getting it out makes me feel calmer. Or maybe it’s the company. Anthony may be wild and bouncy, but the man himself has an odd way of soothing the wary soul.
I know that Mikey just left me but truthfully, my heart was never fully in it. His attempt at a sense of humor only made me miss Anthony’s shenanigans. The way he spoke and walked and even ate only made me miss the times Anthony and I would call, text, and hang out. It’s like I was always trying to compare Mikey to Anthony… almost like I was trying to make this not work on purpose.
I sit up in the bubble bath I don’t remember putting together after Anthony left. It dawns on me that I was sabotaging things. I found faults in everything that Mikey did. I did the same with Sam. Not to mention that I unintentionally acted like a dick toward Mikey when I wasn’t speaking to Anthony. Because he wasn’t in my life.
Somehow, over the last month – and then some – I’ve not only become friends with the man trying to help me find The One, but it’s just hitting me that what I played off as a simple crush has manifested into something legit. Something that I can’t just pass off as a flyby feeling.
I don’t want anyone else.
I want Anthony.
“Sugar, are you okay? You look a little…stiff.” I somehow will myself to relax, but Anthony practically sitting on my lap, under a blanket that we share, has me wound up tighter than a spring.
“I thought stiff was a good thing,” I wink with a smile.
“He has jokes!” he retorts behind a handful of popcorn. “Seriously, you okay?”
“Um, yeah. Maybe a glass of wine will help me calm down. Want one?”
“Yes, but only one. I’m on a princess cleanse, and no way do I need a tour de taille en expansion.” His hands explode over his waistline, and I laugh as I walk into the kitchen. I come back with two large glasses.
“Vous n'avez jamais dit un petit verre.” I grin like an idiot at his surprised face as I comment on the large glass size. “Please, like you’re the only person who knows proper textbook French? Now, what part of the movie are we at?”
“Um, Colin Firth was losing the pages of his book,” he replies slowly, confused and a bit shocked. I laugh as I hit play on the remote. “When this movie is over, we can discuss your dating life.”
I don’t know how long it’s been since I closed my eyes, or when the movie ended, but I open them up quickly, trying to figure out why I’m on my couch in the dark, and who is curled up next to me. I look down and see him, Anthony looking almost ten years younger as he sleeps next to me and slightly snoring.
A smile cracks my face, and I pull the fallen blanket back over both of us.
“Sorry, Anthony. I’ll do whatever it takes to screw up every date until you realize that you and I belong together.”
I close my eyes and sleep takes me quickly.