backstage for a couple shows, which was awesome. We hung out a lot, which was also awesome. And then I caught him with some groupies in an alley. Which was not awesome."
Jamie frowned at my Spark's Notes version of events. "Come on, Anna. Spill. Don't be selfish with the gossip."
I rol ed my eyes. "It's not gossip, Jay. It's my life. And it hurt."
Jamie backhanded my shoulder. "I know. We can get to the hurt later. For now, tell me the good stuff. Is he good in bed?"
I realized I hadn't really talked to Jamie about Chase at all since I'd met him.
"He's...god, where do I start?" I closed my eyes and grabbed the oh-shit bar as Jamie merged onto the freeway. When we were cruising at a relatively tame eighty-five, I started talking again. "Chase is a rock star in every sense of the word. Nothing I've ever done, with anyone, can even remotely compare to Chase in bed."
"Is he big?"
I choked on my muffin. "I didn't exactly measure, Jay, but yes, he is. And that's all I'll say. A girl's gotta have some secrets."
"Not from your best friend, you don't. But seriously, if he's that good, why come home?"
"I told you, I found him porking some chicks in an alley."
Jamie frowned. "Are you sure? If he's as hot as you claim, which I wouldn't know because you wouldn't introduce me, then girls would be throwing themselves at him, right? So maybe it wasn't how it looked. Did you give him a chance to explain?"
I ignored the niggling worm of doubt in my gut. "I didn't need to. I know what I saw."
Jamie looked at me, and it wasn't a look I liked. "So you just left? You just got on a plane and left, without listening to anything he had to say?
Nothing?"
"Whose side are you on?" I suddenly wasn't interested in the other two muffins.
"I'm on yours, which is why I'm pissed off. You should have at least given him a chance." She narrowed her eyes at me, as if coming to a realization. "You ran because you like him. Right? It wasn't just the girls. That was an excuse. You have feelings for him."
"Feelings" was a swear word in Jamie's dictionary. Feelings led to pain, which she'd had enough of in her life. Just like me.
"I flew to New York on a whim to see him, Jamie. Yes, I have feelings for him."
Jamie gave me an exasperated look. "No, dumbass. You like him, like him. Meaning, you're worried you're falling in love with him, so you bolted."
The guardrail out my window was suddenly interesting. "No. That's not it."
Jamie shrieked, "It is! You love him. But you're chicken."
I rounded on her, pissed off now. "And you wouldn't be? If you found yourself falling in love with a guy way out of your league, you'd be shitting yourself, too, and you know it."
"True. But I'd be honest about it."
"And I'm not?"
Jamie didn't answer right away, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she focused on weaving around a train of slow-going semis. When I could breathe again, and she had decelerated down to ninety, she gave me a serious look.
"No, you're not. You ran without telling him what you were feeling. Let's just say, just for argument's sake, that you're wrong about what you saw.
And let's say he invited you to New York because maybe, just maybe, he has feelings for you, too. And then some girls jumped him in the alley, and you walked out and saw something incriminating, and left without so much as a how-de-do. How would he feel, do you think?"
My stomach clenched. "Who the hell are you, and what did you do with my best friend? Because it sure as hell sounds like you're advocating a real relationship with actual feelings here."
Jamie kept her eyes on the road, both hands clenched on the steering wheel. I'd never seen Jamie use both hands to drive. She always had one hand on the gear shifter, even though her car was automatic.
"Listen, Anna. I know I'm like the all-time queen of humping and dumping guys. I act all 'fuck feelings' and whatever, and that's true enough. I mean, it's not an act. But, deep down, when I'm doing the walk of
Jamie frowned at my Spark's Notes version of events. "Come on, Anna. Spill. Don't be selfish with the gossip."
I rol ed my eyes. "It's not gossip, Jay. It's my life. And it hurt."
Jamie backhanded my shoulder. "I know. We can get to the hurt later. For now, tell me the good stuff. Is he good in bed?"
I realized I hadn't really talked to Jamie about Chase at all since I'd met him.
"He's...god, where do I start?" I closed my eyes and grabbed the oh-shit bar as Jamie merged onto the freeway. When we were cruising at a relatively tame eighty-five, I started talking again. "Chase is a rock star in every sense of the word. Nothing I've ever done, with anyone, can even remotely compare to Chase in bed."
"Is he big?"
I choked on my muffin. "I didn't exactly measure, Jay, but yes, he is. And that's all I'll say. A girl's gotta have some secrets."
"Not from your best friend, you don't. But seriously, if he's that good, why come home?"
"I told you, I found him porking some chicks in an alley."
Jamie frowned. "Are you sure? If he's as hot as you claim, which I wouldn't know because you wouldn't introduce me, then girls would be throwing themselves at him, right? So maybe it wasn't how it looked. Did you give him a chance to explain?"
I ignored the niggling worm of doubt in my gut. "I didn't need to. I know what I saw."
Jamie looked at me, and it wasn't a look I liked. "So you just left? You just got on a plane and left, without listening to anything he had to say?
Nothing?"
"Whose side are you on?" I suddenly wasn't interested in the other two muffins.
"I'm on yours, which is why I'm pissed off. You should have at least given him a chance." She narrowed her eyes at me, as if coming to a realization. "You ran because you like him. Right? It wasn't just the girls. That was an excuse. You have feelings for him."
"Feelings" was a swear word in Jamie's dictionary. Feelings led to pain, which she'd had enough of in her life. Just like me.
"I flew to New York on a whim to see him, Jamie. Yes, I have feelings for him."
Jamie gave me an exasperated look. "No, dumbass. You like him, like him. Meaning, you're worried you're falling in love with him, so you bolted."
The guardrail out my window was suddenly interesting. "No. That's not it."
Jamie shrieked, "It is! You love him. But you're chicken."
I rounded on her, pissed off now. "And you wouldn't be? If you found yourself falling in love with a guy way out of your league, you'd be shitting yourself, too, and you know it."
"True. But I'd be honest about it."
"And I'm not?"
Jamie didn't answer right away, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she focused on weaving around a train of slow-going semis. When I could breathe again, and she had decelerated down to ninety, she gave me a serious look.
"No, you're not. You ran without telling him what you were feeling. Let's just say, just for argument's sake, that you're wrong about what you saw.
And let's say he invited you to New York because maybe, just maybe, he has feelings for you, too. And then some girls jumped him in the alley, and you walked out and saw something incriminating, and left without so much as a how-de-do. How would he feel, do you think?"
My stomach clenched. "Who the hell are you, and what did you do with my best friend? Because it sure as hell sounds like you're advocating a real relationship with actual feelings here."
Jamie kept her eyes on the road, both hands clenched on the steering wheel. I'd never seen Jamie use both hands to drive. She always had one hand on the gear shifter, even though her car was automatic.
"Listen, Anna. I know I'm like the all-time queen of humping and dumping guys. I act all 'fuck feelings' and whatever, and that's true enough. I mean, it's not an act. But, deep down, when I'm doing the walk of
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