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I turn back toward Jamie. “You okay getting home?”

She holds up her phone. “Uber’s two minutes away.”

“I can take you.”

She shakes her head. “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

We stand there in awkward silence for a beat, the muffled thump of country music bleeding out from the bar. Jamie glances at the truck, then back at me.

“You know…” She looks up, expression unreadable. “Every guy that came up to her tonight, she rejected.”

My heart gives a stupid, hopeful stutter that I immediately try to shut down. “Yeah. She told me a while ago she isn’t ready to date again.”

Jamie gives me a deadpan look. “She’s still in love with you.”

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “No. She’s not.”

Jamie just stares. Then she slowly shakes her head like I’m the densest person she’s ever met. “You two are both equally blind.”

“What?”

She points directly at me. “It’s clear to everyone except Blaire that you’re still in love with her.” She nods toward the truck, where Blaire has now gone quiet, her cheek smooshed against the glass as she dozes. “And apparently you’re also not very good at noticing she feels exactly the same way.”

Before I can respond, headlights swing into the parking lot.

“My ride.”

The Uber pulls up beside us. Jamie opens the back door, then pauses with one hand on the frame.

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop being a dumbass.”

She climbs inside. The car pulls away, taillights glowing red as it disappears into the night.

I stand there for another moment, the weight of her words settling heavy in my chest. Then I look back at my truck—at the woman asleep against the window, the same woman who’s been haunting me for four years.

Time to nut up.

***

I pull up outside Blaire’s apartment and kill the engine, letting the quiet settle around us. Crickets chirp in the darkness, and the only other sound is the soft, even rhythm of her breathing as she sleeps in the passenger seat, cheek pressed against the window. My heart is slamming so hard I’m half-afraid it’ll wake her.

I’d already decided I was going to do this. The second she picked Theo up this afternoon, something in me snapped into place. No more waiting. No more rehearsing the words in my head like a coward. I was going to tell her everything—how I’ve never stopped loving her, how leaving was the biggest mistake of my life, how every day without her has felt like a slow bleed. I’d even considered getting drunk myself just to work up the nerve, maybe drunk-dialing her the way she’d done to me, finally saying all the things I should’ve said when we were twenty-two and she brought up a future together.

Thank fuck I didn’t go out with the guys tonight. If I had, I wouldn’t have been sober enough to pick her up.

Now she’s passed out drunk in my truck, and this sure as hell isn’t the moment to lay everything on the line.

I scrub both hands down my face and let out a slow breath before climbing out. Rounding the passenger side, I open the door and unbuckle her seatbelt, shaking her shoulder gently.

“Hey, Blaire. We’re at your place. Do you have your—”