Voyeur Extraordinaire(45)

I untangled my hand from the blankets and wiped the tears off my face. I made another promise right then: I wouldn’t cry over Adrian ever again.

I stroked Bruno’s head gently and he closed his eyes and let out a little snuffle; a sign that he enjoyed the attention he was receiving. I needed to thank Jared and Amy for keeping an eye on him last night, and for taking care of me. It was mortifying to think that I'd told them everything. Even if Jared had pretended to be immersed in his newspaper for my sake, I knew he’d heard every word I’d said. And even if he hadn’t, I was pretty sure Amy told him everything. They were that kind of couple.

Maybe I could at least blame my oversharing on the wine; I'd have never told them about the most horrible evening of my life in such detail if I’d been completely sober, but I wasn’t even sure if that was the truth. I’d wanted to confide in Amy. But now, I wasn't sure if I could ever face them again, especially Amy. She'd warned me against going on a date with Adrian, had practically begged me to tell Adrian about my inexperience, and I'd ignored everything she'd said. If I’d at least told him about my virginity, he would have dumped my sorry ass before banging me against the wall.

I swung my legs out of the sofa bed, startling Bruno. He jumped to the ground with a reproachful face. My eyes drifted over to the front door. Maybe I could sneak out of the apartment without their notice, and then I could move out of my apartment, leave New York and return to my parents. I could already imagine what my mother would say. She’d always been against me moving to New York. I staggered to my feet and took a step toward the door, then I stopped. No. I was done being pathetic. I was not going to run away from my life or Amy. Not because of Adrian. Not because of anyone. I’d done that once before.

A knock made me tense, thinking it was coming from the front door and Adrian had returned, but then the bedroom door swung open and Amy’s head peered around the corner. When she saw I was awake and up, she came into the room. She frowned. “Were you about to leave?” She put her hands on her hips.

“No, not anymore.”

Amy gave me a puzzled look, then nodded toward the kitchen corner. “Let’s make breakfast. I need carbs and coffee.”

People always mistook Amy for a health fanatic who banned fat, carbs and everything tasty from her diet because she was vegan. Those people should try her coconut-banana pancakes.

She was whipping them up as I sat at the kitchen table, sipping her delicious coffee. She bustled around the kitchen, humming under her breath. She opened a cupboard, took out two plates, then kicked the door shut with her bare foot. She was wearing a baby-blue satin camisole and matching tiny shorts, but her hair was all over the place. She’d cut it recently into a sharp bob that reached her chin. She gave me a smile as she loaded out plates with pancakes, then topped them with coconut whipped cream and maple syrup. Their sweet smell filled me up and I let out a sigh. She put a plate down in front of me and balanced the other on her knees, her legs pulled up against her body. Her fork hovered inches above the pancakes, her eyes glued to me. “You probably don’t want me to ask how you feel?”

I shrugged and pushed a massive chunk of pancake into my mouth. I chewed slowly before I replied. “I won’t say I’m fine because that’s not true. But I will be fine eventually.” I was glad she hadn’t mentioned my puffy eyes. They were a pretty good indicator for my mood.

“Yes, you will. What about Leon?” She slipped a piece of pancake into her mouth. “Oh, mhhh. I’ve outdone myself.”

“What about Leon?”

She wriggled her bare toes. “Well, we need to find someone who will make your second and third and fourth and all the following times as good as they can get.”

I dropped my fork. It clanked against the plate, then landed on the table top, sprinkling it with whipped cream and syrup. “No, absolutely not.”

“What? You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Amy said indignantly.

I rolled my eyes and picked up the fork I’d dropped, then took a napkin and wiped away the syrup off the table top. “I know you.”

Bruno walked over to Amy, then rolled on his back and let out a low snore. Amy began petting him with a bare foot. “I just think you need a little help moving on from Adrian.” She got up and fetched us both a glass of orange juice. “I know you said it meant nothing but we both know that’s not true.”

I stared down at the remains of my pancakes and the syrup pooling around it, suddenly not hungry anymore. “I don’t want to move on. At least, not like that. I don’t want to go looking for a new guy to break my heart.”