When I called the house on Tuesday, I discovered they were already gone and would be out the whole day.
Now, it was Wednesday, and Beth hadn’t called, either. I knew—I made sure my voicemail worked.
Maybe I’d scared her into avoiding me. Be easier, perhaps, if we could put the weekend behind us and be best friends again. Easier…but lacking, maybe.
I didn’t know what it was that made the two of us a combustible entity when in the same room alone, but I’d never felt something so powerful. So amazingly sexy.
If we could just…
Well, there I went, thinking with my dick again. Beth, because she was Bethie, deserved better.
She deserved a guy in a time zone less than eight hours ahead, frankly. Someone who could take her to movies and dinner and that sci-fi convention she secretly wanted to attend. A guy who would carry her books to class and rub her neck when she got stiff from studying for finals. Someone that remembered the chocolate sprinkles on her hot chocolate.
A bloke who was friggin’ there.
And that wouldn’t be me for years, if ever.
Could I tell her that? Could I be selfless enough to let her go?
Question of the bloody year, mate.