Page 45 of Left of Forever

“Goddamn it, Silas, I cannot do this with you right now. We’ve been here for under forty-eight hours and we’ve been divorced for five years. I need you to chill. I’m begging, in fact.”

A pause. “So, no, then?”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No! Don’t!” he says, belting a laugh. “Micah wants to know what your Wi-Fi password is. He says you changed it since he was here last and you haven’t texted him back.”

“I’ve been gone for two days. He never asked the entire time I was still home. I’ve been busy!”Wait.“Does that mean you’re at my house right now?”

“Think he was previously avoiding the internet. And yup!” I hear him opening my refrigerator and shuffling things around. “Sage and them are on their way over, too. Micah’s been moping.”

“I haven’t been fucking moping!” I hear in the background.

I run a palm over my eyes. “Why is everyone going tomyhouse?”

“Because your patio’s nicest and your beer fridge is stocked. Let me know if you kiss her tonight. If I’m willing to lose the friend I can shit-talk you to, then you’d better not muck it up.”

“Goodbye, Silas,” I drone.

He hangs up without a reply.

I rake both hands through my hair. They’re all going to know what this trip is really about, and they’re all going to be extremely invested. Shit. I’d better not muck this up.

I glance at the clock over the front desk counter; 6:15 now. Only fifteen minutes to go. But just as I get up to head back to my room and pace some more, I see Wren slip into the hotel bar. She’s wearing a flowery, low-cut dress that falls just around her shins. Sandals that tie around her ankles. A groan sticks in my throat at the sight of those little leather bows.

She orders a drink at the bar, and I watch her turn it in circles against the wood. I wonder if she’s nervous. I come up beside her and lean onto the bar, let myself inhale the perfume I’ve always loved. Like caramel and something floral I wouldn’t know aside from recognizing it on her skin. Jasmine, maybe. A spice underneath it that’s her.

“Come here often?”

She smiles into her chardonnay before she takes a gulp and looks at me. Big brown doe eyes and a full wide mouth in a heart-shaped face. Hair down and tumbling around her shoulders in a riot of waves and curls.

“Had the same idea, huh? A drink to level out the nerves?” she asks.

I shrug lightly. “Something like that.” I order an old-fashioned from the bartender when he comes by.

“Since when are you an old-fashioned guy?” she says, cocking a brow.

“Was I not before?”

“Nah-ah. Beer, or a Jack and Diet only.”

“Hmm.” I frown. “I’m not sure, then, honestly.”

I can’t read her expression or the gleam in her eye when she says, “All sorts of new discoveries to be made.”

When we step outside to wait for our Uber a little while later, the evening is bright and cool, the sunset blazing pink in a briny sky. When I look at Wren, I have to put a palm to my chest just to keep myself from reaching for her. Shimmer on her eyes and gloss on her lips. A fresh tan line that cuts its way over her collarbone. A little gold necklace sits at the base of her throat and winks in the light.

She tilts her head with a curious look my way, and I’m captivated—downright enthralled—by a curl that skips and dances against her cheekbone. I think of all the times I didn’t say everything I wanted to and regretted it later, and what she said about my compliments.

“I’m having a hard time not touching you,” I admit. “You are… you’re more beautiful than ever, Wren.”

She blinks heavily and steps into me. I stop breathing when she reaches up and puts her palm to the side of my face. I nuzzle it and kiss the heel, my breath picking up too quick again.

“You can touch me,” she says. I rest a trembling hand where her neck meets her shoulder and trace my thumb along the line of her throat when she swallows. “Let’s just take it slow.”

Her scent envelops my senses, soothing something frantic in me. “I like slow.”

Her smile blooms, my chest inflating the more it grows. “I know you do.”