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Nick: I’ll let you go. Night.
Me: Good night, Nicholas James Adams, D.D.S.
Nick: *inserts man shaking head GIF*
I set my phone down in my cup holder, laughing. He hates it when I pull out his full name for some reason, which is why I use it. Much like him calling me Meggy Pie. One time Grandma used it in his presence and he hasn’t let it go since.
It’s a short drive home, the cool air tussling my hair and chilling my cheeks. I’m expecting to come home to a still house and the kitchen light on above the sink. What I’m not expecting is to see Nick’s car in the street. Pulling into my driveway, he gets out and meets me at my car, his right hand holding a familiar cup.
“What are you doing here?” I ask with a smile, even though I can already see the answer in his hand.
“The kids at the burger joint made an extra strawberry milkshake. I thought I could find someone to drink it. You know, so it didn’t go to waste.” His smile does something weird to my heart and makes my breathing hitch in my throat.
“Again? They’re going to have to do something about that employee. That can’t be good for business if he keeps making extra milkshakes,” I tease as I climb out of my car.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck.
Nick follows me up my stairs and watches as I unlock the door, but he doesn’t follow me in as I cross the threshold. For several seconds, we just stand there, staring at each other. The desire to invite him in, to come in (and not as my friend, Nick) and stay for a while, is strong. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, I don’t say them.
“Here,” he says, extending his hand with the milkshake.
“Do you want to come in?” The words are small, my heart hammering in my chest. I can’t stop the yawn, and immediately bring the hand with the shake to my mouth to cover it.
He shakes his head. “Not tonight. You’ve had a long few days and you’re tired.”
Nodding, we continue to watch each other. I can tell he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.
“Well, thank you for this,” I finally say, bringing the straw to my lips and taking my first drink.
“You’re very welcome, Meghan. I’ll talk to you soon. Sleep tight.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and heads down the stairs.
I watch as he climbs into his car and starts it. He doesn’t pull away, though. His eyes are locked on mine in a way that’s both familiar and scary. There’s a different look to him tonight, and if I’m being completely honest, I’ve noticed it before tonight. He’s still my friend Nick, but there’s more there. Longing, maybe? That thought leaves me both excited and fearful. Not because I’m afraid of him, but more of the fact I’m afraid of the feelings.
Because I’ve done everything to avoid feeling anything for more than two years.
Feelings lead to pain.
Excruciating, miserable, all-consuming pain.
As I close and lock the door to the sound of Nick’s car driving away, I’m instantly surrounded in the silence, the pain. It’s familiar. Much more familiar than any other pesky feeling that I may or may not be having toward Nick, or anyone else.
Taking a hearty pull from the straw, I can’t help but smile as the creamy strawberry shake hits my tongue. He thought of me enough to bring me my favorite treat. Again. He really is a sweet and caring man. Someday, someone (not Collette) will be lucky enough to win his heart and love.
Climbing into bed, I settle in for the familiar uneasy sleep. The tossing and turning. The dream that’s sure to come.
* * *
“Did you hear Clayton and Christine are engaged? I did that! I set them up!” Lexi hollers across the table with a wide smile on her face.
“Really? Good for them. I really like them together. She’s so much better for him than his ex,” Abby says from her seat. We’re at the café having Sunday brunch. Our family is big enough now that the biggest table doesn’t fit our crew. We have to add another table to accommodate our group.
“Aren’t they the ones you practically forced to go to lunch together after their hair appointments?” AJ asks next to Sawyer.
“Well, duh. I knew she was into him. Had been in school, too. So I just arranged his hair appointment at the same time as hers. The rest, as they say, is history,” our baby sister boasts proudly, clapping her hands together victoriously before setting them on top of her big belly.
Jaime sits at the end of the table beside Dad looking as miserable as ever. She’s getting closer to her due date with only three and a half weeks to go. “How ya feeling, Jaime?” I ask, watching as she continues to squirm in her chair.
“Fine,” she says with a fake smile. Ryan gives her a sympathetic look and then kisses her on the cheek. “I’m just ready. Our little one doesn’t like me to be comfortable for more than thirty seconds.” She rubs her very round belly and gives me a small smile.
