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Braden
“Happy Harper’s birthday!”
I laugh at the greeting I get when I answer my phone. “Happy Harper’s birthday to you, Firecracker. It was sweet of you to remember.”
“I put it on my calendar,” she says softly. “Not that I could’ve forgotten anyway. It’s all you’ve talked about. Are you excited for the party today?”
A feeling washes over me. Not quite sadness. Wistfulness, maybe. “Yeah, I am.”
“That was convincing.”
“I am excited.”
“Is this about your ex? You said her fiancé will be there, right?”
“Yeah. Like I said, we’re friends. It’s more that I’m reminded of where I was last year. And that it’s only been two years, but my life is completely different now. Two years ago, I was still in love with my ex, and Harper became the center of my world. Last year was a mess. I got in a fight with my friend—the fiancé—this just brings bittersweet feelings up for me.”
“That’s understandable. How did you get through it last year?”
“By drinking and pretending the hard stuff didn’t exist until it festered and exploded.”
“Oh. Right.That.”
“What’s funny is, I don’t even like alcohol anymore. I haven’t had any since the night of my accident. I’d love to have a beer now and then, but the thought turns my stomach.”
“I get it,” she breathes. “I haven’t wanted to drink since the night I—”
“I know. Guess we’re two peas in a pod.”
“I guess we are.” Her voice is soft and sultry.
We’re both silent for a moment. All I can think about are the words I want to tell her. The feelings that have built inside me over these last few months. But I don’t want to push her. One more month and I get to see her in person. I can last another month. But God, I can’t wait.
“I wish you were going to be there today.”
“Me too. Next year, right?”
“Definitely. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
“I can’t wait to meet you.” Then she makes one of those little noises that drives me nuts.
“Firecracker,” I groan.
She laughs. “Sorry. Don’t mean to give you blue balls. But I can’t pretend you don’t make me feelmm.”
“I think you’re definitely trying to give me blue balls. Because I have to go now and head to my daughter’s birthday.”
“Well, that should kill your boner, at least,” she teases.
“I’ll call you after the party.”
“You better. I want to hear all about it. I—”
Again, there’s silence. Was she about to say the words I want to say to her?
“Have a great time.”
“Thanks, Firecracker. Bye.”
“Bye, Jack.”
She hangs up and I flop back on the bed. This not-getting-to-meet-her-in-person thing is killing me. At least we only have to wait a few more weeks.
A horn honks in the driveway, signaling that my brother’s here to pick me up so we can help set everything up at the farmhouse. I make my way downstairs, keeping Firecracker’s sultry voice in my head as I go.
