Hours later, after I’ve said goodbye to Liza, after I’ve eaten my veggie wrap for dinner and I’ve showered for the evening, I lie awake, restless, thinking about Jesse. About what Dave said. About what Liza said.

What am I so afraid of?

I flip onto my other side, last about fifteen seconds before rolling onto my back. “Ahh.” I actually scream the word, my voice exploding with all of my pent-up frustration, hurt, and anger.

I don’t know why I’m lying here awake and worried, when Jesse hasn’t had the decency to text me in seven days.

Seven. Days.

It’s not usual for us to go a week or more without texting—our lives are busy— but it is unusual for us to be angry with one another for this long. Our fights, which are few and far between, last a day or two…tops.

Snatching my phone from my nightstand, I type a quick text. It’s almost eleven, but Jesse’s a night owl. He’s definitely up, and more than likely, not even at home.

Riley: Hi, stranger. I miss you.

It’s not an “I’m sorry,” but it’s close enough. I’ve made the effort, extended the olive branch. The ball’s in his court now.

Not surprisingly, my screen lights up not even a minute later. The bubbles appear, and the seconds tick away at a snail’s pace. The dots disappear. Then they’re back. Gone again. He must be typing a fucking book.

My mind constructs a long, heartfelt apology. One in which he takes full blame for acting like a total ass. One in which he tells me how sorry he is, how miserable he’s been without my friendship, but what I get is: “Been busy. Miss you, too.”

I nearly throw my phone in frustration. Been busy? Seriously? I’m not some random hookup, some pump and dump chick who he can use those bullshit lines on. This is me he’s talking to.

My thumbs fly over the keys, my intent set on giving him a piece of my mind, when another message comes through.

Jesse: Ry. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t screw up things between you and Dave. I wanted to give you some space.

Riley: Dave and I broke up.

Jesse: Fuck.

Jesse: Because of me?

I hesitate before typing my immediate response: yes. While it’s true Jesse played an important role in the demise of my relationship with Dave, it’s not for the reason he thinks.

I formulate a response in my mind: Dave thinks that you want me and that subconsciously I want you and we should fuck and see what happens. Oh, and by the way, Liza seconds that.

Yes, that sums everything up nicely.

Chuckling, I decide on a half-truth.

Riley: He told me he loves me. I didn’t feel the same.

Jesse: You okay?

Riley: Yeah.

And then before he can respond, I add.

Riley: Can you come over?

Jesse: Now?

Riley: Yes. Whenever you can get here.

I need to see him. I want the comfort of having my best friend back. With everything in my life so upside down, I want him. The familiar woodsy smell, the wide smile, the striking blue eyes, the strong arms. I need everything about him.

Jesse: Be there in twenty. Am I bringing ice cream?

Riley: Have you ever known me to turn it down?

Jesse: A pint of Chubby Hubby coming up.

Riley: See you soon. And hurry ;)

A huge smile stretches across my face. My forever heart is back.