Page 100 of My Unfinished Heart

I do. I have a lot more to say. “Tristan—that night we spent—I honestly—as good as it felt, when I found out you lied about how old you were…I just…”

His expression morphs from moved to bored. He sets down his glass and leans back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. The years have jaded him a lot. I didn’t expect him to be the same effusive, bright light I blindly fell for, but I haven’t yet adjusted to the new reality. He isn’t a kid anymore.

And I want him more, not less.

“What I’m trying to say is, I thought letting you go was the right thing. You were so young, and I⁠—”

“I was technically legal. And anyway, on what planet would having sex with me, then never contacting me, be the right thing? Because I’m not familiar with that world. Just because you found out I was seventeen didn’t make me any less human. If anything, the fact that you didn’t call is even more⁠—”

“Like I said—I fucked up. I didn’t picture ever having to have this conversation. If I’d honestly thought I would see you again, I would have done some things differently.”

His eyes widen, offended. “If it’s too much trouble, I can go. I didn’t invite myself over. Sorry if I’m ruining your clean getaway.”

I shake my head, my eyes rolling. “Jesus.” This has gone completely off the rails. “Can we start over? It’s nice to see you again, Tristan.”

He glares at me like “go to hell.”

“I fucking missed you.”

He blinks, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, just above the knot.

“If I had it to do over again, I would have called you every day.”

He closes his eyes, turning away again. “You are so full of shit.”

“No, but I am crazy about you. Still. I always have been. I’ve just never gotten the timing right.”

“Oh, and now you think you finally nailed it?” he asks with something more than bitterness.

“Maybe. I definitely think we should give it a try. See what happens. Keep that promise.”

“That’s so romantic, Archer, I’m like shivering with excitement right now.” His voice is deadpan. Angry.

I’m not exactly given to flowery sentiment when I’m sober, but if there was ever a moment for me to give it a try, this is probably it. “There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I haven’t thought about you.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Well let me ask you this, then. If you’d known I was back in town, would you have done anything about it? Or were you having too much fun playing house with Jayne?”

Frustrated with myself and the situation I created, I say, “You know—you never called me, either.”

“That’s because I follow Jayne on Instagram. Do you know how many pictures of her and you there are? How often she posts a new fucking selfie? You and I spent one night together, and a month later you’re smiling ear to ear with her. It’s been a fucking blast to watch all these years.”

“Yeah? So was watching you shove your tongue down my best friend’s throat on my patio.”

His jaw drops. “You were with Jayne,” he shouts. “Don’t you fucking get it? You lived with her. You chose her. I kissed West because I wanted you to see me. I wanted you to fucking see me. All grown up. And I’m glad you saw.” He shrugs without apology. “Of all the things I regret, that isn’t one of them.”

For whatever reason, that actually makes me feel better. “My relationship with Jayne was a mistake, and I can’t take it back. Not from her or from you.”

His jaw sets, and he glares at me. “So. What have you been up to since you guys broke up? What all happened between then and the Fourth of July? Phone broken? Car out of gas?”

It might be stupid, but I feel like we’re finally getting somewhere. “Whether you regret it or not, you made out with my best friend on my porch swing. Sorry if I misinterpreted the meaning of that. And pardon me if I wasn’t banging down your door the next day.”

“Pardon me if I’m still pissed I gave up my virginity for a one-night stand.”

It’s a great line, but he just opened a door I’ve been dying to see behind. “What was that about anyway?” I ask, because I don’t want to talk about West or Jayne. I want to talk about us. Just us.

He frowns at my abrupt subject change. “What?”

“Why was it so important that night to have sex? I know I wasn’t the one who talked you into it.”