And it is.
Maybe twenty-two year olds are supposed to be out dancing till dawn, downing shots of tequila, and making questionable life choices… but I must say, I’m happy to be flouting convention, at least for tonight. After Masters drops us at my place, we make sundaes and serenade each other to old Whitney Houston songs in our pajamas, eventually collapsing onto my couch with our hairbrush-microphones abandoned at our feet.
“It’s been way too long since we did this.”
“Agreed.” She sighs. “It’s been way too long since you’ve beenableto do this. For a while there, I was worried you’d never laugh with me again.”
My mouth flattens. “I’m sorry.”
“No! Honey,no, I don’t want you to apologize. You were heartbroken. You were going through something. It was just really hard for me, as your best friend, to have to watch from the sidelines while you worked your way through it. I knew there was nothing I could do to help, but that doesn’t mean it was easy for me to watch you struggle.”
“You did help, though. You were here, every day. You helped me pick out every piece of furniture in this house. Hell, you helped me pick out the house, too. And the car in my driveway, and every article of clothing in my closet. That was enough. That waseverything.”
Her eyes are watering. “Love you, you big slut.”
“Love you too, you abominable whore.”
“I have to say…” she murmurs after a while. “Grayson surprised me tonight.”
“How so?”
She shrugs. “He really came through for Helena. Granted, his chivalry was a side-effect of being such an asshole and breaking the poor girl’s heart in the first place, but still. Maybe he’s changing.”
“Maybe.”
“Would it matter?”
My eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“If he could be different. If he could step up — commit to you. Actually be your boyfriend. Not as an act for the interviews… for real.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
“But if it did,” she pesters. “Humor me. Would you want him?”
I’m quiet for a long while. “I think… if you’d asked me a month ago, I would’ve said yes. But now…”
“Things have changed,” she murmurs. “You’ve changed.”
I nod. “It’s more than just that, though.”
“Okay, what else?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I have a very high IQ.” Her eyes roll. “Explain it to me.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “On the surface, Grayson is light. He’s fun. He’s the good time guy — always down to party, always traveling, always working on a new movie. He’s got women throwing themselves at him in every city in the world. He’s got the swagger of a man who’s insanely good looking and fully aware of it. And I admit, I’m not totally immune to that.”
“You’d have to be a robot to be immune to that.” Harper smirks. “Plus, there’s the small fact that you were starring in an insanely romantic movie with him, falling in love on camera, in possibly the most beautiful place on the planet.” Her head tilts. “Probably didn’t help the wholeresisting temptationthing…”
“Definitely not.” I grimace.
“There’s nothing wrong with someone fun, you know. Maybe that’s what you need, Kat. Someone endlessly fun.”
“No, I don’t think so. Being with someone like Grayson… It would be like living on a diet of only chocolate for the rest of your life. The premise sounds great, at first. But eventually you’d die of scurvy, wishing for a damn piece of broccoli. A diet of pure sugar is unsustainable. You’d slowly wither away into nothing, unable to survive without vital nutrients.”
“So, no chocolate diet for me. Got it.”