World's Worst Boyfriend: A Romantic Comedy Adventure (Fake It Book 3) Carina Taylor (the first e reader TXT) 📖

hardware issue. I had to go meet with West before I went to Sullivan’s.

I’d have to come back to replace everything. There was no way I was going to let her spend the night in a house with a lock as flimsy as that.

Chapter Sixteen

Saidy

The Barre was the only barre studio in the county, which was why the name was so generic. There wasn’t a need for anything fancy or trendy with zero competition.

They’d been open for a year, and now that they knew they would make it as a business, they were ready to decorate the space thoroughly.

The main entrance and the smoothie bar were what I would be designing. It was the first time I’d be taking on a project that involved working with a construction team.

My business was booming. I should be elated.

Why did it still feel like there was a gaping hole in my life?

Oh, that’s right. My boyfriend whom I’d happily dreamed of spending the rest of my life with was no longer with me.

It didn’t matter that I was the one who broke things off.

No matter how mad I was at him for thinking he could boss me around, I still missed him terribly. When he’d grabbed me last night, I actually didn’t want him to let me go. And that was what hurt the most. Thinking about what we could have been. Rather than what was real. What had actually happened.

There was a lot of hope in a blind future. But I couldn’t count on someday. Fletcher kept telling me his business would calm down ‘someday.’

And I’d been waiting for that day. But it just wasn’t here yet.

On my way to work on the leather-mania couple’s house, Andrea texted me.

Andrea: Hey! I’m so sorry we didn’t get to talk very long at our engagement party. Thank you for coming. That meant a lot to Milo and me! Are you doing okay?

Me: Thanks, Andrea! I’m so happy for you and Milo. I’m doing okay.

It was the most real response I could give. Work was going great, my heart was broken, I’d been working out regularly, and my mind was thoroughly confused. That had to balance out to an even “okay.”

Andrea: Should we do a girls’ night together?

I thought about saying yes. But Andrea was the girl I didn’t feel the need to pretend with. I’d had my fill of girl’s nights lately. Being cornered by Zoe and Bee was the limit for me.

Me: Honestly, I feel like I’ve been partied out lately. I’m hoping to avoid all bars and clubs for a while.

Andrea: Oh, girl. I’m not talking about going clubbing. I’m talking about wine and pizza. In baggy sweatpants.

Me: Lol! Count me in. That’s more my version of girls’ night.

Andrea: Can I come over after work tonight?

Me: That sounds great. I’ll be home by six.

I spent the rest of the day organizing the furniture movers; bringing the new furniture in and moving the old furniture into the shop in the back. Apparently, Chuck couldn’t part with his leather couches, so we were adding a man cave to the finished office space in the shop.

After that, I spent the afternoon assembling furniture.

My hand was stuck in a permanent cramp by the time I got home. Andrea was already parked in my driveway and I pulled in next to her.

She climbed out carrying a large bag.

She was wearing a giant sweatshirt and a pair of stained, pink leggings. It was utter relief to have her here. No pretense with her.

“I brought jalapeño poppers and mozzarella sticks.”

“You’re marvelous. You don’t even want to know how great some comfort food sounds right now.”

I unlocked the front door and she followed me inside and made herself at home in the kitchen. “You go do whatever you need to do to get comfortable. I’ll warm up our dinner,” she told me.

She had a sixth sense for finding the correct cupboard, because the first one she opened was my cookie sheet cupboard. She pulled what she needed out of there and began unloading her bag.

I headed down the hall and pulled on my comfy clothes, then washed my face and threw my hair up in a messy bun.

I couldn’t believe it, but I was actually excited about girls’ night. It had been so long since I’d looked forward to hanging out with a friend like this. I’d started to dread the times I had to hang out with Zoe. There was so much pressure when I was around her. But Andrea? Even though I didn’t know her very well yet, she was the friend you relaxed around. She had your back. Like in paintball when she covered for me—literally.

I grabbed a couple packs of my undereye masks and went back to the kitchen, pausing when I spotted an SF hat hanging on my coat hook next to my back door.

Fletcher must have left it last night.

When I walked into the kitchen, Andrea had set out a bowl of pomegranate seeds, pineapple, and a plate of cheese.

“I’m pretty sure you’re my favorite person ever,” I told her as I snuck a bite of the cheese. Smoked gouda. “We’ve only ever done lunch together. Why haven’t we ever done girls’ night before?”

“Because it’s usually been couples’ night,” she laughed. “But I wish we’d done this sooner.”

“Me too.”

The oven beeped and she pulled out the cookie sheet full of greasy appetizers.

“I figured since we weren’t kissing anyone tonight, we should go straight for the jalapeño poppers,” she said as she stuck one in her mouth. “Ah! Hot! Hot! Too hot!”

She blew steam out while I hurried to the fridge, despite my uncontrollable laughter. I filled a glass with ice, from my now working machine, and water then handed it to her. “Here you go. Maybe wait another second before you do that again.”

“Good plan,” she said after she drained the cup. “So…what are we going to watch tonight?”

“Something dramatic and hilarious.”

“It’s a deal.”

We sat on the couch and ate pomegranates