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That doesn’t mean I’m making the first move though. No way in hell.

“I need to call Jenna.”

“Yes, you do. But when he calls you, don’t avoid him.”

He lets my chin go and I shove a spoonful of yogurt into my mouth, not answering.

Leaning forward, Graham rests his elbows on the other side of the counter. “Love you, Cara. You need anything from me, any help or anything, you know you can always come to me, right? And you can stay here as long you want too.”

“I know. I really missed you, Graham.”

“Good. I missed you too. Next time you decide to be your own person and not your parents’ puppet, don’t forget there are people in that life who still love you and I’m one of them.”

He points to his chest and I nod.

“Speaking of puppets…”

“Don’t start.” He rolls his eyes and pushes off the counter. “I want to be a lawyer. Just because I want the same things he pushes down my throat doesn’t mean I am him.”

“Thank God,” I mutter again.

He laughs and ruffles my already-messed-up mane. “I’ve got to go study, but I’ll be back around five. You going to be here?”

“Don’t know.” I shrug. I plan on calling Luca and telling him I’m not coming in, and I have to call Jenna, but if she and Dan can move my stuff out and back to my apartment, that won’t happen until after she gets off work. I say all this to Graham, more thinking out loud than anything, and he kisses my cheek.

“No problem. Call me and let me know. You’re here, I’ll bring home dinner. You’re not, we’ll talk soon.”

“Thanks, Graham.” My chin wobbles. “I’ll let you know.”

He gives me a quick hug, grabs his laptop bag and backpack, and heads out with another shout that I can stay if I want.

He’s been so good to me. Last night when I left Braxton’s, I gave the taxi the address of Graham’s place, quickly crossing off Jenna as an option. She’d go ballistic, Dan would probably be pissed but maybe he wouldn’t, and it was that uncertainty, not knowing where Dan would fall, that held me back.

Braxton might be a dick, but I don’t need to ruffle their friendship any.

God. How am I going to keep being friends with them if Braxton and I don’t work out?

“What a mess.”

I drop my head on the counter and cry.

Chapter 27

Braxton

I’m a dick. There is absolutely no fucking excuse for the way I behaved last night and I’ve had all night and most of the morning, barely sleeping at all, drunk and sitting on my couch in the dark after Cara stormed out, to think of a million reasons I can give her to explain why I lost my shit.

I’m a dick.

So far, that’s all I’ve got. I can’t call her and try to fix this shit if I don’t know why I lost my mind so badly. So I’m sitting in my office after canceling all my appointments for the day because a hangover and a tattoo gun is fucking stupid, trying to sort through bills and invoices and organize my disaster of a place, when there’s a knock on my door.

“Yeah?” I call out, shuffling a pile of designs I occasionally create when the day is slow and I’m feeling creative.

Stella pops in her head, a plastic bag from the sub shop down the road dangling in her hand in the narrow doorway. “You need something to eat.”

She’s giving me a wide berth and I’m alert enough to know that this sandwich is her way of trying to get on my good side. Last night when she showed me those photos, I absorbed all the shit she’d already said to me, that Cara and I don’t belong together. I took in her almost satisfied expression that she was able to show me the truth to spare me the hurt of falling in love with a woman who would take off on me or would realize she’s too damn good for me. I didn’t even fucking question why or how, after just warning me that Cara and I didn’t belong together, how she found her with another guy, why she took the photo, and why she was so intent and focused on showing them to me.

But today, after spending hours replaying last night in my head over and over and over again until I was dizzy, I started seeing things a bit differently, and if Stella hadn’t put those ideas in my head earlier last night, I doubt any of this shit would have happened.