Free Push Me (To The Edge series, #1) by Jill Macintosh Page B

if I’d like some wine.
    “No,” I said. “I’d love some wine.”
    “I wish we had know n what you’ve been going through sooner,” Ross said, pouring three glasses.
    “I know. I’m sorry things got to this point. I’ve missed you guys.”
    Steven brought three big plates of food to the table and said, “We’ve missed you, too. But in a way, I’m kind of glad I didn’t know what was going on with that dickwad.”
    Steven was the larger of the two, which isn’t sayin g much because Ross was a small guy—thin and, to use his own description, “dainty.” Steven, on the other hand, was a little over six feet tall, and could easily be mistaken for a bouncer if you didn’t know his actual profession was drug rehab counselor.
    Ross said to me, “You know he’s just saying that.”
    “Not so,” Steven said. He reached over to me and put his hand on my forearm. “Remember when you said I was like the big brother you never had? Well, that’s what big brothers do. Knock the shit out of guys who treat their sisters like crap.”
    Ross rolled his eyes. “Just eat up, tough guy.”
    That is how they always were. The sarcastic banter never got out of hand, though, and they always ended each round with a laugh.
    When I showed them a picture of Ian, Ross said, “Oh, now I see why you fell so hard so fast.”
    Steven took the picture, looked at it, and said to Ross, “You couldn’t get a guy like that.”
    “I could.” Ross took the picture back and sighed dramatically. “I mean, if I hadn’t settled.”
    It had been so long since I’d been around these two, I knew I had missed them, but didn’t realize just how much.
    Steven was opening another bottle of wine. “Hey, you’re free to go at any time.”
    “You don’t mean that,” Ross said. “You’d be lost without me.”
    “It’s true,” Steven said, looking at me.
    “Plus, I wouldn’t want a guy like that,” Ross said. “Picture him reading those books and making notes. How creepy is that?”
    We promised we would all keep in touch, and that I’d come up to Boston whenever I could, and they’d come down to New York soon so we could do dinner and a show, something none of us had done since our last time, pre-Ian.
    I enjoyed life on the road. I was a complete unknown in cities that were unknown to me. I relished the solitude and the various adventures I set up for myself on each trip. I was determined to set aside a little time and take in the most interesting part of each city’s culture while I was there. I was always fulfilled by my work, but those little escapades made my life a little bit richer each time.
    Beth called me into her office one day and told me I would also be in the running for the new Creative Director position. But that had been put on hold for a while—for reasons the higher-ups didn’t give us, but Beth figured it had to do with the economy—so there was nothing new on that front. Other than feeling increasingly like Corrine and I were rivals, that is. Good thing we weren’t around each other much. I put it out of my mind as much as I could, continuing to do my job to the best of my ability, putting in more hours to fill up a lot of my newfound free time.
    However, being single in the city, every once in a while I got the urge to go out and cut loose. So two or three times per month I went out with Rachel to clubs. We were pretty much doing what she’d suggested that first night I got to her apartment—she was hunting for a guy, and I was her wing-woman.
    I ha d no interest in dating at all, so sometimes this setup found me in uncomfortable situations, namely when Rachel was interested in a guy who was with a friend. I was always up front with the other guy and made it clear from the start that I wasn’t looking for anything. A few times I even lied and said I was from out of town and had a boyfriend back home. Not wanting to be in debt to anyone, and not wanting to lead anyone on, I always paid for my own