A laugh shot out of her. “Oh, my God.”
“But that’s not me,” I said, forging on. “I don’t date the hot guys. I did that once and I got burned. I get the guys who are prematurely balding and play Diablo, not the beautiful ex-football players. I’m way out of my league, and when he realizes it, when he leaves me …” I swallowed again, my nose burning. “I don’t think I can recover from that, Rose.”
“So you end it before it’s begun?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to end it.”
“No, but if you keep this up you won’t have a choice. You have Tyler Knight tripping all over himself to convince you that he wants to be with you. What’s the problem here?”
“Me.” I said sadly.
Rose rolled her chair over to the file cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Maker’s. “You need a drink.” She rolled back and picked up my empty coffee cup, wiping the inside off with her sweatshirt sleeve before pouring a finger of whiskey.
“It’s eight in the morning, Rose.”
“So what?”
She held it out like it was medicine, and I took it with a sigh. It burned when I sipped it.
“Ah, ah. Drink up, kid.”
I rolled my eyes and took the shot, eyes pinching shut against the heat.
“Okay,” she said, “so I want to know two things. First, did you tell Tyler what his friend said? And second, what happened to you before that messed you up so bad?”
I rubbed my face, hating myself. “No, I didn’t tell Tyler what he said. What good would it do?”
“For as smart as you are, you’re being a real dummy,” she said flatly, with love. “He would want to know. Wouldn’t you want to know if someone warned him off of you?”
I sniffed. “Yeah.”
“You have to tell him, even if it’s only so he can tell you it’s not true.”
“You really think it will help?”
“Absolutely. Now tell me about whatever else has you twisted up.”
I blew out a breath. “You know how I’m all about sorting people?”
She nodded.
“Well, I think really I’ve been sorting myself, trying to keep myself safe from getting hurt again.” I told her all about Will, about the shame, about how I felt like such a fool while she sat and listened, eyes sad.
When I was finished, she didn’t say anything, not right away. She grabbed my coffee cup and reached for the whiskey again. “You need another drink.”
She passed it over, nodding at me when I hesitated.
I sighed and took a sip, and I was glad she didn’t make me shoot it again.
“Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and I need you to hear me.”
I nodded.
She leaned forward. “Come closer.”
I leaned forward too, cracking a hint of a smile.
She looked me dead in the eye and said, “Tyler is not Will.”
I swallowed hard.
“Do you hear me? He’s not Will. The rules you made? The shelves people belong on? You’ve created them yourself. You’ve built your own prison out of something imaginary, and you ended up hurt anyway.”
Tears welled up, and I blinked them back. “You’re right,” I said quietly.
“Yes, I am.” She sighed. “You need to talk to him.”
I sank back into my chair. “We’ve talked it to death, Rose.”
“Well, then talk to its ghost. You can’t just pack it up and shut him down. Did you guys …”
I nodded, feeling sick at the thought of bringing it up to him again. You promised. “Last night. It was …” I blinked against the stinging in the corners of my eyes. “He’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I still don’t see a problem here.” Her gaze was hard as she waited for an answer I didn’t have.
“I told you. I’m a mess. I’m hung up on a million stupid things, and it’s making me crazy. And my crazy is hurting him. I don’t know what to do, how to make it right. I mean, how do you rationalize something that’s irrational? I feel completely out of control.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing, Cam. You don’t always have to hang on to control. What happens when you let go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you fly.”
“Maybe I fall.”
“Sure, but maybe you fly. Isn’t it worth the risk? You’re sabotaging yourself, and you’re doing it by the rules you set up to protect yourself.”
“Maybe.”
“You know,” she said, “I admire you for so much — your brains, your skills, your … I don’t know. Energy. But you’re not always right, and you’re not right about this.” She watched me for a second. “You need to talk to him, but this time you actually need to say something. You need to come clean all the way down to your toes, bare it all.”
Hope sprang in my chest at the thought of telling him, of letting it go. “How’d you get to be so smart?”
“Years of being stupid and learning from it. Will he be home tonight?”
“He’s leaving for Nebraska today.”
She shook her head. “I really think you should talk to him before he leaves.”
“Like, call him? I don’t know if we should do that over the phone.”
“Like, get out of here and go talk to him. You’re no use to me like this anyway. Nobody likes a sad bartender. Grumpy, maybe. But sad? Definitely not. Go home. Talk to him. Tell him why. Make it right before he leaves town for the weekend, or you’ll end up driving yourself crazy.”