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“I didn’t puke on Divide and Conquer!” How many times am I going to have to remind him?
“Only because you didn’t eat. And you didn’t eat because you were torn up over the idea of losing the tournament. A stupid math tournament, Benj.”
“It wasn’t stupid,” I grumble. “I know what you’re angling for, but you’re wrong. I didn’t lose a tournament. And I didn’t lose Cris.”
“She might be in your office, but she’s not in your bed. You lost her. Which would not be a big deal if you never wanted anything long-term in the first place. You just said you do.”
“She doesn’t!” My arm starts shaking, rattling the ice in my glass. I put my hand to my forehead. I need to get the hell out of here. “Thanks for nothing. I talked to Archer, and he wasn’t a whole hell of a lot of help, either. The more I talk about what happened with Cris, the more lost I feel. I may as well be the center of the Bermuda fucking Triangle for all the help the two of you are being. I was looking for a tiebreaker.”
“Kinda hard to have the tiebreaker when you don’t know how you feel. Or rather, you do know how you feel but won’t admit it. You want to know what I think? Really?”
At the idea of him sharing more hard truths, my stomach does another barrel roll. Nevertheless, I need honest feedback and he’ll never lie to me. So I say, “Yes.”
He faces me, his crooked nose shadowing his frowning mouth. When he was at my house last year, he looked similar, more desolate, but similar.
“Do I want to hear this?”
“I don’t know,” he admits with a headshake. My hand automatically goes to my stomach at his bleak tone. He doesn’t look happy about what he’s about to say, but he lays it out. With the brute force you’d assume would come from a guy his size.
“You’re in love, brother.”
I try to laugh but the noise escaping my lips is more of a pathetic wheeze. Biting my lip, I scan the immediate area around me, the lush grass and the fence, the sun-dappled trees with mulch at their bases. There’s nothing in my eyeline offering support, save for the man who just delivered a throat punch in a silk pillowcase.
“That’s not…” Shrugging for effect, I try to sell it. He waits, eyebrows lifted. “She’s not…” Another headshake from me. Nate slow-blinks, appearing slightly disappointed.
“Look. I understand with your upcoming nuptials you might think this is what is going on, but I’m telling you…” My throat constricts, cutting off my words.
“Like I said.” He caps his water bottle and gives me a supportive slap on the shoulder. As he walks past me toward the house, he calls over his shoulder, “Better ’fess up and win her back or invest in a lifetime supply of antacids. Your call.”
There in the middle of Nate’s lawn, my stomach in turmoil and my Sprite fizzing audibly, I realize he might have a point. And that I am a giant fucking moron. Being with Cris was easy. Almost too easy. My whole adult life I’ve thought of relationships as complicated. Temporary.
My argument about permanence being a myth seems incredibly shallow when I remember our time together. She’s my best friend for a reason. I trust her implicitly. She trusted me too.
She made a mistake.
Not in trusting me with her virginity, but trusting me with a tender part of her that I totally manhandled. We crossed a line, and in doing so, uncovered another layer we hadn’t acknowledged until now. Is it possible our relationship was built to last? Is she The One? Who the hell knew that was a real thing?
I have my answer when I step back into Nate’s house. Vivian is arguing with him about mayonnaise, of all things. He’s gesturing with the butterknife in one hand, a slice of sandwich bread in the other, defending his position. They pause when they notice me in the doorway. Her face melts into a smile that is both sad and satisfied.
“Oh, Benji.” Her arms close around my neck. I catch my brother’s proud smile over her shoulder. No, not proud. Loving. He loves this woman and he should. She’s a good person. A great person. At one point she didn’t allow herself to have nice things, either. Nate loved her regardless. The same way Cris loved me.
“I think I fucked up,” I say, my throat suspiciously tight.
She holds me at arm’s length. I search her face for a reason to have hope, anything hinting I’m not too late to save what Cris and I had…if I didn’t already annihilate it by being a selfish, clueless prick.
“I’ve never been in love before,” I tell her.
Her smile widens. She pats my cheek. “It’s easier than you think.”
I cling to those words as tightly as Jack clung to the door. Hopefully, things turn out better for me than they did for him.
