“What took you so long? Did you not get a cab? Wait— Did you WALK?” Chloe gasped the last question, looking down at my feet. “You’re wearing heels. How far did you walk? Do you want to sit—”

“Chloe,” I held her hand and straightened her up. She was shorter than me in her glittery flats, so she looked up at me, with a worried expression, and the same sky-blue eyes of her older brother. I was momentarily distracted. “I’m fine. I was in the area for a job interview.”

“Oh, how was it?”

“Could have been better.” I shrugged. It was a disaster actually. And I wasn't going to get it.

She looked down at our hands and frowned. “What happened to your finger?”

She assessed the paper cut on my finger, which I had readily given myself with the menu card which was too tight in my hand, back at the café, when Devin was spitting all the shit he had on his mind.

I shook my head. “Never mind.”

Chloe huffed out a breath, and linked our arms together as we walked inside the mall, talking about how excited she was for shopping with me.

Apparently, she thought my dressing sense was good. Good enough for her to rely on me, to choose her a gown for the masquerade ball her parents were organizing. It was with awful awareness I walked into the mall, that perhaps, I would run into Ian. I hadn’t asked Chloe if she invited him over, although she did mention Niall would be here shortly too.

We reached the elevators and all the way up, she was only talking about…well, me.

“The first time I saw you, I knew we were going to be friends. Like, look at you,” she motioned her hand up and down at my high waist skirt and off-the-shoulder blouse. “You’re perfect.”

I chuckled, feeling the need to shift the topic from me to something else. As I reached into the pit of my brain and fished out a list of topics, the first one somehow found its way out.

“I’m sorry about that day at dinner.” I threw her a guilty glance. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

Chloe’s face first twisted in confusion, then instantly flushed a deep shade. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, then shook her head. “If anyone should be apologizing, it's me. I did not know about…” she trailed off.

Me and Michael.

I patted her hand that was wrapped around my arm, with a small smile. “No need to apologize. It’s all in the past for me.” And it wasn’t a lie. I quickly looked around, trying to find a better topic to discuss. “How many people are we expecting today? I’m not that good at socializing.” I said, and almost winced the next moment. It must have sounded like I didn’t want to be here. But the fact was, I'd agreed to be here, in the anticipation that maybe, Ian would tag along with his little sister.

After my not-so-memorable encounter with Ian last Sunday, I'd hardly seen or heard from him. The blurry images of Ian carrying me in his arms inside my hotel room, helping me change into comfortable clothes (where I almost tried to undress him in return), and waking up in the morning to see a blanket thrown over the couch where he slept, were still fresh in my mind.

He had stayed with me all night, and left in the morning before I woke up. It was not a surprise when the room service brought in some hangover pills and a glass of juice for me. Of course, it was all Ian.

Considerate, gorgeous Psychiatrist.

“I can tell. You’re that kind of introvert who is hot on the outside and secretly soft on the inside,” Chloe said, replying to my previous question with an adorable glint in her eyes. “You don’t have to worry, though. It’s not anyone you haven’t already met. Just Niall, Ian and Katelyn.”

My brows drew together at the mention of the last name, and I think Chloe looked at me with a rather suspicious glint in her eyes now.

I didn’t like it. Not the glint. The name. I was sure it was that blonde bitch who was shoving her tits into Ian’s face that night at club.

No, I was not jealous. Ian looked really uncomfortable that night. And I could tell he wasn’t enjoying those tits even a tiny bit.

“Oh, and Ian said he wanted to have a word with you. Alone.” Chloe whispered the last word, as if it was something people around us shouldn’t overhear.

My heart picked up the pace, and blood rushed to my ears. I knew what Chloe was doing. Playing cupid.

And I was guilty for how badly I wanted to thank her.

As we approached the cafeteria around the corner, we took a seat near the glass doors, waiting for the other three to arrive. And—by the grace of the Satan hovering around us—the first to arrive was the blonde bitch.

She approached the table, dressed in a short sweater dress and a bag so tiny, it wouldn’t even fit my non-existent tolerance.

“Kate,” Chloe jumped up to greet her, both of them air-kissing each other on the cheeks. It was cute if I talked about Chloe. But as of the other…I didn’t even want to talk about her.

And no, I was not jealous.

“Hey,” Blonde bi– Katelyn said, beaming toward me with a smile as fake as her tits.

Gosh, I hated her tits.

I pulled off a smile myself, making sure it never reached my eyes. “Hi.”

“You were the one with Ian that night at the club, aren’t you?” her eyebrows arched.

Oh, she saw.

I nodded my head, and she grinned, too dark lipstick against her too white teeth.

Was it just me, or everything about her felt wrong?

I suppressed a sigh as she sat herself across me. And as soon as her ass was sat, her mouth opened. “Ian is kind enough to let you hang around with his sister.” She said, looking over at me with an odd look.

My eyebrows drew together at her remark, and I shot a glance at Chloe, who in turn gave me a confused look.

“What do you mean, Kate?” Chloe asked, as my attention drew to the door behind her, which was slowly opening. Vaguely, I was hearing Katelyn’s voice in the background, as Ian walked in through the door.

His eyes found mine, soft blue burning into dark brown, just as I heard Katelyn saying, “Isn’t she Ian’s patient?”

Ian looked away from me, towards Katelyn, and so did I.

“What?” Chloe looked over at me for a long moment, then shook her head with a humorless chuckle. “No, Maeve is my friend. She is here because I invited her over. What are you talking about?”

Katelyn shook her head in turn, amused, her blonde curls bouncing around her face. “I heard that she is Ian’s patient. That’s all. It’s not like I said she can’t be your friend.” The smile didn’t falter from her face as she threw me another, not odd, but pitiful look.

I hated it. I'd hated that look ever since I could remember anything of my life at all. Since my lacking childhood to my wasted teen years.

Chloe looked over at me again, but this time with a questioning look. “Is that true?”

Oh, Chloe.

I couldn’t point out the reason why I felt so bad about it. About simply not putting out stuffs that never actually occurred to me as discussion-worthy.

I looked back at Ian, feeling a sting somewhere below my clavicle.

"Who did you hear this from?” Chloe asked, robbing the question off the tip of my tongue. Katelyn pointed over her shoulder, at Ian, who was still frozen at the cafeteria door.

“Ian told me.” Katelyn said, and stood up from her place to walk around the table, towards Ian. She said something to him, or maybe engulfed him into her arms, I couldn’t focus. My mind had wandered off, somewhere really unpleasant. Somewhere I didn’t want to be right now. Because it was screaming in my head that Ian had told her, and probably everyone, that I was just his patient.

It was the truth. Not like he'd lied or something. But looking at Chloe, her frowning brows and fidgeting fingers, I was more than convinced that she didn’t have any knowledge about this matter whatsoever.

As Ian and Katelyn approached the table, I didn’t look up. Suddenly, I was feeling out of place. It was ridiculous. I couldn’t look at Chloe because I didn’t want to see something in her face that I would later regret seeing.

A friend I hardly had. Now lost.

A hand landed on top of my knotted fingers under the table, and my attention briefly shifted.

I lifted my eyes, and they first landed on Ian, who was sitting across me, already staring at me with a hard look. I quickly broke my eyes away from him and searched for the owner of the hand resting over mine.

Niall’s brows were drawn together when I looked at him, throwing me a questioning look. I didn’t even remember seeing him walk in, but somehow, he was the one who noticed me fidgeting under the table.

“You good?” He squeezed my hand, trying to search for the answer in my eyes.

I quickly recovered, and gathered the remaining pieces of my will to pull on a smirk. “Better than good.” Saying that I pinched his wrist playfully. But Niall didn’t flinch, or break his eyes away. He didn’t look satisfied with that answer. And I couldn't blame him. I wasn't the best liar in the world.

I sighed, and patted his hand resting over mine, digging up a small, genuine smile for him. “I’m fine.”

I was anything but fine.