He straightens and tilts his chin upward. “Yes, I do. Try to show up sometime. We’d love to have you add some chaos to the adventure.”
My expression softens at the sincerity in his voice. I know it’s his way of saying he does, in fact, miss me. “I will. Love you, weirdo.”
“Love you, asshat.” We share a smile, and he disconnects.
I check my phone. Still nothing. Of course there’s nothing. She’s outcelebrating.
With a long, drawn out sigh, I look at the framed picture on mydesk. It’s of me and Jules when we were sixteen during a joint family vacation to Bird Neck. We’re tan and smiling, and she’s wearing a blue striped bikini and my lucky Reds cap backward while we stand ankle-deep in the ocean, attempting to cool off.
I miss how we were. The ease of our friendship when the only thing we had to worry about was whether or not we were going to have any classes together. I miss throwing rocks at her bedroom window, urging her to sneak outside so we can swing and talk. I miss our movie nights and eighties dance parties and making messes in the kitchen and sledding down Dead Man’s Hill on snow days.
It’s my fault we’re like this. She was right when she accused me of breaking my promise not to leave, and she was right when she said I pulled away first. I’ve been pulling away and running ever since I realized I wanted to kiss her.
I wish we could go back to when it was easier. Before I knew what it was like to lose myself in her. Before I let my desire get the better of me.
Before I fucked it all up.
My phone buzzes, and I immediately snag it.
Up for some company?
The brief pang of excitement is replaced by a flash of disappointment when the message turns out to be from Trinity and not from Jules. I instantly feel guilty because Trinity is great and doesn’t deserve to be second to anyone, let alone someone who’s actively ignoring me. She’s the one who should be holding space in my thoughts.
A selfie of Trinity holding a take-out bag comes through next. She’s sporting a cute knit hat and goofy-looking grin. It makes me wonder, not for the first time, what she sees in me.
Always, I text back.
Be there in five.
It takes me that long to straighten my room and throw on a clean shirt. I want to at least make it seem as if I haven’t been in here wallowing in self-pity for the past few days. I didn’t tell her that Jules and Chloe left early Saturday morning instead of Sunday evening, and I sure didn’t tell her about the argument. That would open a can of worms I would rather not have to explain.
She greets me with a kiss, and I pull her in for a hug, findingcomfort in her spicy perfume and the feel of her arms around my waist. “This is nice,” she says.
“Yeah,” I agree, realizing that we don’t do things like this nearly enough, and itisnice. “Seeing you is just what I needed after a crappy day.”
She hugs me a little tighter. “What made it crappy?”
Jules ignoring me and appearing to be sleeping with some girl I’ve never met, for starters. I step out of our embrace and grab my roommate’s chair to roll it over to my desk so we can eat. “The weather. The Reds not playing for the pennant. My unfinished assignment that’s due next week.”
Trinity gives me a look of sympathy and starts to remove the take-out containers. “That sounds bad. Can I help with anything?”
“Trust me, you already are.” She smiles, clearly happy with my response and sits in one of the chairs. “Thank you for the food, I’m starving.” I snag a spring roll and take a huge bite.
“You can always call me,” she says after a beat. “When you’re having a bad day.”
There’s something in her expression that makes it clear shewantsme to call her. And, yeah, I probably should be. That’s what relationships are about, right? Leaning on one another? “Okay. The next time the Dodgers get a base hit, I’ll give you a ring.” She rolls her eyes and insists that’s not what she meant. I put my hand on top of hers. “I know, and I will. Thank you.”
She brings my hand to her lips and places a gentle kiss on my palm. It’s intimate. Somehow even more so than when we’re having sex. It makes my stomach flutter and my guilt amplify.
“Are you ready for your shoot tomorrow?” I ask, trying to figure out when we went from purely physical to moments of tenderness and whether or not I’m ready for that.
She perks up. “So ready and so excited. This new line is amazing.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have brought any of thisnew linewith you, by chance?”
Her eyes darken, and she licks her lips. “What if I told you that I did? And if you’re a good girl, maybe you can have a private show.”
There we go. Back to familiar territory. “I can be averygood girl.” I lean in and kiss her, eager and ready for this private show.
