His hand was warm against mine. I traced the line of him, wishing that his hand was sliding down my body instead of shaking my hand. I didn’t want this, but I didn’t know what else to do. I had the dream of three boyfriends, sure, but could that even be possible? Especially if two of them hated each other.
“Friends,” he whispered.
“Now you can stop giving me shit about Nick,” I teased.
He squeezed my hand and released it. “Can’t do that. I still don’t like that he’s here.”
“Well, you can disapprove all you want. I’m inviting him and Matthew to our next friends’ dinner.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t want him around, Evie. I?—”
“Seriously?” I hissed. “He’s good. He’s amazing.”
Austin pressed his lips together, but didn’t argue. An awkward silence settled between us.
“I’ll see you around,” I said.
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything. Is your burn feeling any better?”
“Matthew is taking care of me. You don’t need to worry.”
His throat worked, but he nodded. “Okay.”
Then without another word, he left. His shoulders were tight and I felt . . . awful
The man I’d been pining over for almost a decade had just asked me out, and I’d turned him down.
Fuck.
Not only turned him down, I’d insisted we just be friends.
I wanted to ruin our friendship in the best way possible, and . . . that was never going to happen.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Austin
Friend-zoned.
I’d fucking friend-zoned myself.
Which was not my intention at all. How the fuck had I completely just ruined everything with Evie all over again?
My head felt fuzzy with a thousand different emotions as I put the ladder against the side of the hotel. There was a patch of the roof I still needed to fix. Scaffolding was nailed to the pitched side, and I should have grabbed my harness, but I’d been up and down a hundred times in the last couple weeks. I just had a few more spots to do, then the project would finally be done. I still needed to do some bookkeeping and prepare for next week’s meetings with the town council, andfuck. I’d fucking friend-zoned myself.
I tightened my tool belt and climbed up the rungs. I hated heights. I hated that somehow fixing shit became my job. I wasn’t even that good at it. Especially when it came to heights.
I reached the top, my stomach twisting. I clung to the sides of the ladder as I wavered.Fuck this, fuck. FUCK.My throat tightened as I stepped onto the scaffolding.
My phone started to buzz in my pocket, my head spinning. Whoever it was, they could call back.
And they did.
Three fucking times.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, cursing as my boots slipped across one of the tiles. I steadied myself, balancing on one of the plywood pieces. It was a little loose, which wasn’t good. I’d half-assed installing the scaffolding, but I was the only one who came up here, so it didn’t matter as much.
I answered my phone without looking. “What? Phil if this is you, I swear to fucking god?—”