Heather Burke was pretty sure she was about to break the record for the most consecutive trivial arguments had with a boyfriend. She hated to be the bearer of bad news, especially when that news would surely be followed by irrational jealousy.
Kyle dashed her hope of getting his voicemail when he picked up on the third ring. “Hey, I was just about to call you. I’m on my way.”
She sat down on her bed. “I’m sorry, something came up.”
Silence.
She continued, hoping to smooth things over. “But I’ll make it up to you, I promise. How about a nice dinner tomorrow night, just the two of us?”
“Something came up?”
Heather frowned. “Yeah.”
“Something work related?”
“Uh … ”
Kyle’s harsh laugh had no humor in it. “Let me guess. This something’s name is Dillon?”
Now it was silence on her part. In the six months she and Kyle had dated, the subject of 99 percent of their arguments was none other than her best friend.
“I’m getting really tired of this, you know.”
That ruffled her feathers slightly. “Tired of what? He just got in a few hours ago. I haven’t even seen him yet.”
“That only makes it worse. You’re already canceling plans for him.” Kyle sighed. “We’ve been planning to go to this party for the last month.”
“I didn’t expect him to come back until next week, Kyle. Stop acting like I plotted to ruin our night.”
Kyle continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “This man has been in the middle of our relationship from the start. I can only imagine how it’s going to be with him right here in the same city.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Yeah, I guess I am. I keep waiting for things to change.”
Heather didn’t know what to say to that, but no response was needed. He’d hung up.
She wanted to cry. She also wanted to punch something or someone. Kyle’s jealousy wasn’t warranted in the least and she was getting tired of explaining her relationship with Dillon to people.
Hell, it was hard for her to make sense of it sometimes. What hope did she have of finding a man who would understand? At thirty-four, she definitely hadn’t run across one yet and she had been searching like mad for almost two decades.
She got up from the bed and walked to her dresser. An old photograph had caught her eye. It was probably her favorite picture of them.
He was one of the few men to never let her down. Actually, she could probably count on him most. Her brother and father loved her dearly, but even they were reluctant to drop everything for her at the first sign of a crisis. “Crisis,” as her brother often put it, should have been her middle name.
Dillon agreed with that sentiment, but at least he had the decency to do it behind her back. Well, most of the time.
Heather smiled. The wait was almost over. Had it really been a year?
The knock on the door snapped her out of her daze.
She sprinted out of her bedroom to the living room door. She almost yanked it off the hinges. “Dillon!”
“No,” Jillian Murphy said, pushing past her. She turned to look at Heather. “What are you doing? We’re going to be late.” She looked around the room. “Where’s Kyle? Am I that early?” she asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.
“Sorry,” Heather said, closing the door. “I meant to call you.” She walked over to the couch and plopped down.
Jillian adjusted the cat ears on her head. “This doesn’t sound good.”
Heather shrugged. “It’s fine. Kyle and I just had a disagreement, that’s all.”
“Shocking.” Jillian grabbed her arm, pulling her up from the couch. “Go put your costume on already.” She shooed Heather into the bedroom. “I only wanted to be fashionably late and now I’m just late.”
Heather took off her fitted, black skirt and cream-colored blouse, trading them for gray yoga pants and a white t-shirt. She grabbed an elastic hair band off the dresser and pulled her hair up into a messy topknot.
Jillian frowned as she returned to the living room. “What kind of costume is that? You’re some kind of fitness instructor? You’re … ”
“A woman who’s staying in tonight.” Heather walked into the kitchen with Jillian close behind.
“Why? You and Kyle have a million disagreements. This too shall pass.”
Heather shook her head. “I’m not staying in because of Kyle.”
“Oh.” Jillian considered that for a moment. “Oh?”
Heather peered into the fridge. There was nothing much in there except orange juice and pickles. It was going to be another take-out night after all. She closed the refrigerator door and looked at Jillian.
“I’m staying in because of Dillon.”
Jillian arched an eyebrow. “Oh,” she said slowly.
Heather rolled her eyes. “I planned to have dinner with him and his family after he got in, but I had to work late.”
“Right.”
Heather walked out of the kitchen. “I called him to explain — ”
Jillian followed. “Kyle?”
“No, Dillon. I told him I had to miss the dinner and he said not to worry, he would just see me tonight.” She sat down on the couch again. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How about telling him you had plans?”
“I haven’t seen him in a year!”
“So what’s another day?”
“Stop, please. You sound like Kyle.”
“I hate to say it, but maybe he has a point.”
“Did you really hate to say that?”
“Not that much, no.”
Heather groaned.
“Why do you make me hurt you?”
“Go, please. You’re way past fashionably late now.”
“Can I give you some advice first?”
“No.”
Jillian ignored her. “You might want to take a good, hard look at … whatever this is you’ve got going with Dillon.”
Heather crossed her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jillian shrugged. “Maybe the two of you can date for a while, see how it goes.”
Heather looked at her as if she’d grown two heads. “Are you crazy?”
Jillian laughed and shook her head as she went to the door. “I’m just saying.”
“Like I need life advice from a grown woman with whiskers glued to her face.”
Jillian opened the door and looked over at her. “Think about it. Dillon might be your only real option.”
“Meaning?”
“Either you distance yourself from your BFF or you’re destined to be alone forever. Or you can just make Dillon your boyfriend.” She smiled. “Your choice.”
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