Page 101 of In Your Wake

“Max… I want to talk about this,” he insists.

The face looking back at me; the eyes searching mine, belong to my friend. The kid who used to watch rom-coms with me and who’d always give me his green M&M’s. The kid who once drove out to my summer camp to wish me a happy birthday because he knew I was sad not to be with my family.

The guy who cared so much for me, he didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship by having sex.

I realize that what we had is bruised and broken, but it’s still there, waiting for us to pick it back up.

“We’ve talked. We’re good,” I reply.

“We so fucking aren’t. We need to deal with this.”

“Right this instant with our friends up there?” I ask pointing above.

“They’re busy. They don’t care about us.”

“What exactly do we need to deal with?”

I catch the quick detour his eyes make to my waist before coming back up to my face.

“The enormous elephant in the room that keeps following us around.”

Mitch

I can tell she notices when my eyes drift over her breasts down to her waist. That lime-green bikini has held my eyes captive all day.

She brings her arms up, crossing them against her chest. “Mitch, the only enormous thing in this room is your ego,” she says without malice.

“To be fair, you’re the one who got jealous of another girl,” I shoot back with a smirk.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

“Well, whatever you were, you didn’t even bother to talk to me about it.”

Her jaw clenches as her eyes glint with fury. “Who’s the one who dodged my calls? My emails? Even after all of it… I tried.”

She’s got me there.

“So, to be clear, which one are you maddest about? That I moved away, or that you believe I slept with someone else?”

“A little of both. But mostly how you ran as quickly as those pretty legs of yours would let you. As if none of us mattered.”

The champagne has definitely loosened her tongue.

“I had to follow my dreams. I was always going to leave, you knew that.” Funnily enough, my left eyebrow twitches. I guess she was right—it does that when I’m lying.

“You’re right. I did. But I guess I just thought…” She drops her head, but it doesn’t hide the tears filling her eyes.

I wanted this to go smoother, to ease into this conversation. I never wanted her to cry. But now that the wound is open, I see this might be our last chance to mend it.

I gently lift her chin, tilting her head so her eyes meet mine. “Tell me, Max. Tell me what you thought.”

Her lower lip quivers. “I thought that I mattered more to you.”

I frown and blink a few times, staring at her in disbelief. “Of course you mattered.”

She hastily wipes a tear away. I ignore the way my body responds to her pain, the subtle hint of desire that stirs in my blood, that begs to take her into my arms, into the bed and make her feel better. Make myself feel better.

The room seems to fill with our long-held hurt before I break the silence. “Max, you mattered more to me than anyone else.”