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So Not Meant To Be(102)

Author:Meghan Quinn

Like a goddamn dagger to the heart. I’ve been friend-zoned.

After everything we’ve been through, after last night, after the dates, I’m stuck right there, as her friend.

Fuck.

I continue to stroke her hair, disappointment passing through me. “Yeah, same, babe.”

And because he has the WORST timing ever, Huxley calls. Kelsey lifts from my chest, adjusts herself, and then reaches out to the propped-up iPad and accepts the call.

Huxley and Lottie come onscreen and Kelsey quickly waves. “Hi.”

“Hey, good morning,” Lottie says. “Hope this wasn’t too early. I know you had a date last night.” Lottie wiggles her eyebrows.

“No, this is fine. Is everything okay?” Kelsey asks.

“She’s worried you’re going to fire her,” I say, causing Kelsey to push me.

“Why would I fire you?” Huxley says, speaking up now. “You’re doing excellent work.”

“Oh, that’s just how Kelsey is,” Lottie answers. “She always thinks she’s going to get fired. But this has nothing to do with work.”

“No, nothing like that,” Huxley says. “And for the record, Kelsey, you have nothing to worry about. JP took care of Regis last night.”

Jesus Christ, this guy.

Kelsey quickly looks toward me, but I ignore her probing eyes and ask, “So what’s the phone call for?”

Lottie loops her arm through Huxley’s and says, “Well, while going through all these wedding meetings, we’ve come to the conclusion that a big fancy wedding isn’t necessary. We’re getting married in a month instead.”

“A month?” Kelsey asks. “Oh wow, that’s really soon. Will you have enough time to plan everything?”

“Yes. You’d be surprised how quickly things can get done when the right checkbook is involved,” Huxley says.

“It’s true. He’s been flashing around dollar signs to everyone, and things are getting done. But we’re calling because it’s going to be a rooftop wedding in Malibu that overlooks the ocean. We’re inviting about one hundred people and keeping it pretty small. Don’t worry, you each get a plus-one.” Lottie winks at Kelsey. “Maybe you can bring Derek. Dave and Ellie will be there.”

Fucking wonderful.

“Yeah, maybe,” Kelsey says, but her voice is distant.

“Anyway, we’ll send the details over shortly. We wanted to call you and tell you the big news. When it came down to it, we just wanted to be married, so we thought this would be a perfect combination for both of us.”

“Sounds dreamy,” Kelsey says just as a text message pops up at the top of her iPad screen.

My eyes make quick work of reading it before Kelsey can swipe it away.

Derek: Hey, Kelsey, I had a great time last night. Can we please do it again while you’re here?

My jaw clenches and sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.

I know I’m friend-zoned.

I know she’ll never see me as someone to date.

But fuck . . . I don’t need to see Derek swooping in while things are still raw.

“Are you still going to have a bridal shower or anything like that?” Kelsey asks.

“Um, I think just a lingerie party. Something small. Nothing too crazy. We don’t need anything, but I know Hux here would appreciate the lingerie.”

Huxley scratches his jaw. “I would.”

Bing.

Another text.

Like a moth to a flame, my eyes zero in on the text message.

Derek: And sorry about not kissing you last night. I really wanted to. I just got . . .

The rest of the text message is hidden, but I get the gist of it. Derek is a goddamn pussy and is now ruining my life by coming in hot with the text messages the next morning.

I don’t think life could be any more frustrating.

We spend the next five minutes talking. I’m zoning out the whole time, wondering why this couldn’t have been texted or emailed to us. Why this required a FaceTime call. Because now I know that Derek still wants to take Kelsey out, and knowing Kelsey, she’s going to be 100 percent excited about this.

Just as we’re about to hang up, one more message comes in.

Derek: I’m free today if you want to have a picnic in the park with me.

Gag me.

Jesus Christ, Derek, give her a chance to respond before you write a fucking novel about how you feel, how you fucked up, and how you want to make it up to her.

“JP, do you still need to talk?” Huxley asks, pulling me from the anger simmering in the pit of my stomach.