Diamonds Are Forever

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, looking down at her hands. “It doesn’t matter, because it didn’t work out with any of them. They don’t matter. They never did.”

“You say that, but I’m just as—if not more—off-limits than they ever were.” He checked his watch, and Peyton’s chest ached at the realization that he was leaving soon. “I held your interest for this long because I’ve told you no.”

“You’re wrong,” she said. “But I don’t know how I can make you see it...especially since you won’t even add me on Facebook so we can keep in touch.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Out of everything we’ve talked about tonight, your biggest concern is Facebook?”

“It’s a good way to keep in touch.” She shrugged. “If you want to.”

He took out his phone and tapped on the screen a few times. “There,” he said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Friend request accepted.”

“Thanks,” she said, although now she felt stupid for making such a big deal out of it. She rarely used Facebook. Her feelings for Jackson were turning her into a drama queen, and she hated it.

“By the way, congrats on applying to UNLV,” he said.

She jerked her head, surprised by the change of subject. “How do you know about that?”

“Your dad mentioned it when we talked. I hope you get in.”

“Whatever.” She huffed. “I’m done with school. I’m not going.”

“I always did see you as more of a gap-year type,” he said, as if she should know what that meant. He studied her with so much intensity that her heart caught in her throat. The energy between them crackled, and she leaned forward, inviting him wordlessly to come join her on the bed. His eyes didn’t leave hers, and for a moment she thought that this was it. He was finally going to kiss her again.

“I need to head out.” He stood up and shoved the chair under her desk, ending whatever she thought she’d felt between them. “I don’t want to miss my plane.”

“Okay.” She heard herself say it, but she felt numb. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. All she could do was sit there while he said goodbye and walked away.

The moment he left the condo, she locked her door, fell onto her bed, buried her face in her pillows and cried.

chapter 8:

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Madison walked into the Diamond Residences after school, her iPhone held up to her ear. As expected, the call went to voice mail. When was Oliver going to stop avoiding her and talk to her? It had been weeks since the accident, and all she’d gotten were a few text messages saying he was doing fine and that he would let her know when he was ready to talk. But it was now the beginning of February, and she was losing hope. Why didn’t he want to see her? She was trying to be there for him, but she couldn’t do that if he didn’t let her in.

She was heading to the elevators when she spotted Damien in the Grand Café. She hadn’t hung out with him one-on-one since the incident over the summer when she’d kissed him while drunk, but maybe he had a better idea of what was going on with Oliver. Despite her misgivings, she walked over to him.

He had a plate of the happy-hour meatballs and was doing something on his phone. He put it down when he saw her. A year ago, they would have already greeted each other and slipped into easy conversation. Now, his dark eyes watched her suspiciously. She missed the friendship they used to have.

“Hey.” She smiled and forced herself to sound upbeat. “Mind if I join you?”

“Go ahead.” He motioned for her to take the seat across from him, and she did. “Feel free to have a meatball.”

The scent of the marinara and basil made her mouth water, but she ordered a freshly made “Green Machine” juice instead. “So, what’s up?” she asked.

“Just grabbing a snack before hitting up the gym.” He leaned back and studied her. “What about you?”

This was officially the most stilted conversation she’d ever had with Damien. Luckily, her drink arrived, and she swirled her straw around, taking a sip. She pursed her lips at the bitterness of the green juice.

Damien finally smiled. “Not a fan of green juice?”

“I’m getting used to it,” she said. “According to the juice expert I follow online, pure green juice is the healthiest, but it doesn’t taste as good because there’s no sugar added from fruits.” She took another sip, trying not to make a face this time.

“Well, good luck with that,” he said.

“Thanks.” She drank some water to chase away the taste. “Anyway, I saw you here and figured it would be a good time to ask—have you heard from Oliver lately? He doesn’t pick up when I call, and when I do hear from him, it’s just a vague text. I’m worried about him.”

“It’s been the same for me,” Damien replied. “He told me that he’s going through some stuff and that he needs space.”

“But it’s been over a month,” Madison said. “He should be back in school. Or at least he should want to see his friends.”

“Didn’t you have a fight with him before he left Savannah’s party?”

“Yeah.” She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. She hadn’t told anyone the details about the fight, and she didn’t plan to. It was too humiliating. “But Oliver and I have been friends for years. One fight doesn’t change that.”

“Depends on what it was about.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she lied. “It was stupid.”

“If you say so.” He popped another meatball in his mouth, looking off into the distance as he chewed. “But I’m worried about Oliver, too. I’d hoped he was at least talking to you.”

“He’s not.” She sighed. “I hate this. I want to be there for him, but I can’t if he won’t even talk to me.”

“I know what you mean,” Damien agreed. “I think that if by the weekend he’s still hiding out, we should go to his place and see what we can do.”

“You mean go there and refuse to leave until he sees us?”

“Exactly,” he said. “It’ll be easiest if we do it together. As a team. Unless you have a better idea.”

“If I had one, I would have told you already,” she said. “That idea sounds as good as any. We might as well give it a shot.”

“So we’ll do it this weekend.” He sipped his soda, watching her as if he was waiting for her to say something else. “Anyway, I’m glad you came over here. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.”

“After what happened last summer, you told me that things couldn’t go back to how they were between us,” she said softly. “I assumed you meant it, so I gave you space. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Come on, Mads.” The use of the nickname made her heart ache. “I was angry at first, but you know me—I get over things fast. We’ve been friends for years, and while I used to want more, what you said to me in that hotel room was right—a relationship wouldn’t work between us.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it came out mean when I said it. I’ve felt awful about it ever since.”

“You definitely could have been nicer about it,” he said. “But what you said got me thinking. You have your whole life figured out. You’re ambitious, determined and independent. Which is all awesome...but me and you together would be a disaster. I want to be with someone who wants my help and support. Someone who still has ambitions of her own, but who looks up to me, and who I can be there for no matter what.”

“You want someone who makes you feel needed.”

“It sounds lame and old-fashioned when you put it that way, but yeah, pretty much,” he said. “And you’ve never needed me—at least not like that.”

Madison blinked, amazed that this was all coming from Damien. Despite how long they’d been friends, he’d never struck her as particularly insightful. “You’ll find that person,” she said. “I know you will. But I’m glad you’re moving on.”

“I’ve already moved on.” He smirked. “I did months ago.”