He's embarrassed when he finds he's been staring at the phone, shaking his head and saying to the empty room, "Get a grip on yourself, Hardy."
But he can't. With his brother away and his best girl out shopping he can't help but wait for that call, that call that might give him the confidence to do what he's wanted to do for years.
He succumbs to his pathetic obsession, falling into a lounge chair just catty corner to the phone. He rubs his eyes and groans, kicking himself for acting like some love-sick idiot. But he can't help it; he can't stop. She's got to call back, and he's got to be there when she does.
The phone rings, and it's her name on the speed dial. He waits a second before answering, not wanting to seem too eager-and then yanks up the phone because he knows she doesn't care how quickly he answers.
"Hi, Nancy." He hopes he sounds chalant.
"I called Ned." Her voice isn't quite as cheery as he'd hoped, but he doesn't dare question why. He wonders why she's telling him this; after all, with Joe there, he's had the updates on the arguement since it began. Why does she personally want to tell him? But it doesn't matter, because it just allows him to here her voice.
"I heard. I'm glad the two of you could work things out." As strange as it is, he is completely sincere: he doesn't truly want them to fight anymore, because he knows how important Ned's friendship is to her. But there's that secret part of him that still resents it.
"Me, too." She's relieved, and he allows himself a smile. Then the paranoia sets in, and he's quick to reply.
"I didn't doubt that you would."
He can hear her smiling on the other end. "Thanks for being such a good friend." And she means it, like she always means it.
I wish I was more than a good friend, he thinks to himself, knowing that he can never tell her this.
He sighs. "No problem." He hopes she can't tell that he's slightly exhausted by this, by masking his feelings behind generic phrases of support. "It's-" and he finds himself hesitating, truly hesitating before the next words; he wants her to hear this deliberate pause, he wants her to feel it. "-good to see you two back together."
"Thanks." But it's almost a question-it wants to be a question. For the first time she's questioning his sincerity, maybe his motive for being so supportive. And she is certaintly questioning that pause.
But, of course, she is too much of a lady, too much of a well-mannered woman, to bring up her questions, to possibly start yet another relationship talk-after all, one in a night is already one too many. So she changes the subject.
"I found a dungeon." Her voice is back to normal-back to its excited, curious, original state.
He can't quite join her enthusiasm, though-he's too busy kicking himself on the other end. This was his only chance to tell her, and he's he tried to push back those thoughts, bringing Callie to the forefront of his mind, shoving Nancy out with thoughts of his real best girl. It doesn't calm him.
The only thing that does is the sound of her voice, the thought of a mystery-the thought of a cursed castle in Germany with a spooky monster and a dungeon.
Focus, Hardy.
"That is really cool." He knows his voice must sound dull and unintersting, but right at this moment it doesn't quite mattter. "I wish I was there." To be with you, he adds to himself. "Anything interesting in there?"
And now he can relax, because he's got her talking, and right now she's the only thing he wants to hear.