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When was that?
Oh right, just before he steamrolled over my heart like the dickhead he was.
Mom had a conniption when she saw that we had drawn on the wall, but it was nothing a well-placed poster couldn’t fix. And here it was, after all this time, a reminder of a friendship that had mattered more than anything. And a reminder of what he drop-kicked into oblivion.
I recognized the twist in the center of my chest that only Adam Ducate could cause.
My bedroom bore witness to seventeen years of laughter and jokes. Of secrets and tears. Even now, ten years since I last spoke to him, he was here in every crevice, in every corner. It was hard to stand in this space and not think of him. I had worked so hard to push him from my consciousness. Not to let my mind drift to the thousands of memories we shared.
I quickly stuck the poster back on the wall, covering the marks. I didn’t want to see them. I’d go out tomorrow and get some paint. It was time to erase Adam for good.
Kind of hard to do when he lived in the same stupid town.
I heard the doorbell ring and went to look out the window. A dark blue truck was in the driveway; Webber Landscaping was written on the side. I could hear the loud rumble of a familiar voice downstairs followed by my mother’s high-pitched tone.
I walked out into the hallway and stopped at the top of the stairs, peeking over the banister. Mom was standing in the doorway accepting a box of plants. The man that handed them to her was easily over six foot four with broad shoulders and a rugged, handsome face browned from the sun. He had aged well, wearing his thirties with a sexy confidence that suited him. He towered over my mother, but not in an intimidating way. His smile was too kind, his eyes too bright. He’d never intimidate anyone. She knew that better than most.
“Still trying to butter up the women I see. It seems some things never change, Web,” I called out as I headed down the stairs, grinning at the man I hadn’t spoken to in over a year.
Kyle looked up, his face splitting in a smile as genuine and happy as my own. “Well, look who decided to waltz back into town,” he drawled, pulling his hands out of his shorts pockets so he could envelop me in a hug that almost cracked a rib or two.
“Okay, you can let go now,” I said, my voice muffled by his chest. I could feel the rumble of his laugh, and it filled me with a warmth I hadn’t expected.
Kyle Webber released me, but not before mussing my hair. “It’s good to see ya, Galloway. It’s been way too long.”
I smoothed my wild red hair as much as possible. “I know. I suck at the whole staying in touch thing.” I felt a twinge of guilt. I wasn’t entirely telling the truth. Yeah, I had gotten lax in speaking to my old friends over the years, but that wasn’t the whole reason I had let my friendship with Kyle wither on the vine. Kyle was Adam’s best friend. Where Kyle was, Adam was close behind. You couldn’t have one without the other. And my memories of Kyle would always be intertwined with my feelings for Adam. It hurt to look at him because all I saw was the boy who had rejected me. It wasn’t fair, but it was how I felt. So, it became easier not to talk to Kyle because then I could pretend I could forget about Adam.
I could tell by the way Kyle looked at me that he understood this all too well.
“Well, now that you’re back, you don’t have any excuses,” he lectured.
“Kyle’s been helping me clear out the flower beds for the summer and get the yard tidied up before the place is listed. He brought over some hydrangeas I ordered.” Mom indicated the box of brightly colored flowers.
“Your mom’s a slave driver, though. She has a very clear idea of how she wants the garden to look, that’s for sure,” Kyle teased.
“I just know how I like things is all,” Mom tutted.
“You’re telling me. Remember that time she roped us into painting the living room?” I asked.
“Hell yeah, I do. We were only allowed one ten-minute break.” Kyle chuckled.
“Then Whit splashed you with paint, and you dipped the tips of her hair into the bucket,” I reminded him, remembering it as if it had happened yesterday.
Mom had loaded Kyle, Whitney, and me up with paint rollers and set us to work. It took much longer than it should have because we kept goofing around every time Mom left the room.
Kyle’s brown eyes gleamed. “We had some fun back then, didn’t we?”
