Page 24 of Here We Go Again

“Sounds perfect,” Theo says. We climb onto the elevator, and he presses the button for the first floor. “I’m glad you decided to text me.”

There’s an unspoken question hanging in the air between us, and it grows louder and louder the longer we don’t talk.

“I’m sorry,” I finally blurt. “I know it probably seems like I only texted because of Garrison.”

Theo lifts his shoulders. “I mean, he was a good reason.”

I nod. “Yeah, I guess he was,” I say, but I don’t say anything else. I could tell him I was going to text him anyway. That I got held up, distracted, busy with other things, but it would only be to protect his feelings, and I don’t want to lie to him. “I was just scared, Theo,” I say instead. “I didn’t want to text you because I don’t know how to feel about seeing you again. This is all just … really weird for me.”

He runs a hand across his face. “I get it.”

“I’m glad I did text,” I add. “It was good to see you talking to Garrison.”

Theo’s quiet as we exit the elevator, and I wonder if I said too much. Maybe I was too honest? We pause outside the wide entrance to the coffee shop.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable, Bec,” Theo says, his tone gentle.

The way he calls me Bec pricks at my heart, spreading warmth out to my fingertips. He’s the only person who’s ever called me that. I didn’t realize I’ve missed it, but hearing it again triggers an ache of longing right behind my ribs that surprises me.

“No, I want to,” I say. “I wasn’t sure I did before, but…” I swallow against the sudden knot in my throat. “I am now.”

“Okay,” Theo says. “Then I guess I owe one to Garrison. But only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” I say. “And desperately in need of some caffeine, so…” I tilt my head toward the coffee shop.

Theo chuckles. “Far be it from me to keep a woman from her caffeine.”

We move inside and step into line, and Theo looks up to study the menu. I already know exactly what I’m ordering, so I let my gaze linger for a few extra moments on him.

The shock of seeing him has worn off enough that I’m starting to notice all the things I used to love about his face. The perfect bow of his upper lip and the dimple in his chin. The freckle on his right cheekbone and the scar above his eyebrow from a hockey injury our junior year.

It’s a good face. And not just because he’s so handsome. There’s an intelligence behind his eyes that adds to the appeal and an air of mystery that makes him interesting. Like he’s always thinking something you probably want to know.

His eyes drop to mine, catching me staring, and he grins. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just … cataloging.”

“Cataloging?”

“Noting what’s different. What’s the same.”

He shoots me a teasing grin. “I’ve gotten uglier, haven’t I? It tends to happen with hockey players.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “So much uglier.”

“Just wait until I take out my teeth.”

I bark out a laugh, but then he gives me a look, and I get the distinct impression he isn’t kidding. “Wait, for real? How many have you lost?”

“Two,” he says. “But I can’t actually take them out—not anymore. The replacements are permanent now, but I wore a removable bridge for almost a year.”

“Bet that helped your dating game,” I joke. “Having dentures next to the bedside table.” I falter as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Is it weird to mention his dating life? I don’t even know why I did.

But Theo only grins. “I was actually on a date once that wasn’t going well, so I popped them out in the middle of dinner.”

I suck in a tiny gasp. “You did not.”

“She didn’t even make it through appetizers before she claimed her sister was sick and left early.”