Page 198 of Just for the Cameras
“Uh, Ross is the glue that holds that show together.”
“Preposterous!” OC shouts. “It’s Chandler, and everyone knows it.”
“Chandler is the easy answer.”
“You’re the one who’s easy,” OC shoots back.
“Hey,” I snap at him. “Don’t fucking call my girl easy.”
OC winces. “Sorry, that…that just flew out of me. Apologies. I’m a bit stressed at the moment, so forgive me for anything stupid that I might say.”
“It’s okay,” Maple says, even though I want to tell her that it’s not. “Back to the problem at hand. I know this is not what you want to hear, but I think you just need to let her go.”
He sighs heavily. “Why did I know you were going to say that?”
“Because you know what’s right, and that’s what you should do. If she’s happy, let her be. Let her live her life. Don’t complicate it for her.”
OC brushes his hand through his hair, pushing his hood back.
“Fuck,” he says, and I can see that cocky yet goofy demeanor he wears all the time slip as he lets us see him in a raw, vulnerable moment, realization setting in that this is what his life is going to be.
A life without Grace.
And as much as he annoys me, I feel bad because I feel very attached to Maple right now. Not that I have the kind of history that OC and Grace had, but if she were to just walk away right now, I would feel pretty sick about it.
I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her.
And I know deep down inside that if it were her who just got engaged, I would probably have something to say about it. And I wouldn’t just let her go live her life.
Then again, I don’t usually fall under the line of morally correct decisions.
“I’m sorry, OC,” Maple says, her expression turning into deep sympathy. “If you want, you can hang out with us for a while.”
Uh…what?
“Really?” he asks. “That would mean a lot to me.”
And before I can even protest, he stands from the chair, takes the two steps he needs to make it to the couch, and sits down, grabbing the remote to the TV with him before turning it on.
“Ooh,Pretty Woman, love this movie.”
He grabs one of my throw pillows, hugs it to his chest, and stares off at the TV as I slowly turn to look Maple in the eyes.
She gives me an apologetic expression, and I know she can feel my displeasure.
Because this is the last fucking thing I had in mind when we were driving back to my place.
OC on my couch, watchingPretty Woman, was not how I planned on ending this evening.
“He’s kind of precious when he sleeps,” Maple whispers as she stares down at OC, who is now sprawled across the couch, mouth hanging open, gripping my throw pillow like it’s his personal little spoon, covered in a blanket that Maple insisted on me draping over him.
“Not the adjective I was looking for,” I say, already in my boxer briefs, ready for bed. I got ready once the dickhead started drifting off to sleep.
Maple did too once I brought her bag up to my room.
She asked if maybe she should go home since it was so late, and I told her absolutely not.
If anything, I was going to at least sleep with her in my arms.
