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A tight-fitted leather jacket I’ve never seen on him before.
Skinny jeans that sag the slightest bit, tucked loosely into his standard black and white high-tops.
When I saw him enter Chickie’s, I swear my knees nearly gave out. I knew he’d been invited—of course he was, I made sure he was…but I honestly wasn’t sure if he’d actually show. Will said he was coming, but I didn’t miss the hard look in his eyes.
Will’s pissed at me. I don’t blame him. From what I can tell those two have really hit it off. And in the month I’ve been gone, it seems they’ve only grown closer. Hell, Will seems to be closer with everyone—even Shawn. Waylon too, and that’s…surprising. He wanted nothing to do with him when he first moved back.
Guess Waylon finally got over his grudge.
While I don’t remember Will being in my room the night I fucked everything up, Shawn filled me in that he was. He witnessed everything. And remembering what led him to pack up his life, and start over in a town he hadn’t stepped foot in in years…
Well, I make a mental note to apologize to him too.
But right now, I focus on the more important matter at hand.
The most important…
Jeremy.
With a bolstering exhale, I stuff my hands in my jean pockets, and bunch my shoulders up by my ears, quickening my steps to go join him. A breeze blows through, tossing my hair about, and I hunker down even more, wishing I remembered to grab my jacket before heading out here. My gray waffle-knit Henley does jack shit to ward off the chill.
Chewing my lip ring, I slow to a stop just a foot away from Jeremy.
Sensing me, he finally turns, meeting my gaze with an arched, expectant look. He gestures at my chest, and says flatly, “Talk.”
I stare at him, my heart pounding harder by the second.
Jeremy’s gotten pissed with me over the years, sure, but it never lasted long. I could usually joke my way back into his good graces.
This is the first time in our lives that I actually feel… well, small in his eyes. Well and truly deserving of his wrath. His hurt. And it’s a punch to the gut if there ever was one, reaffirming just how badly I screwed up this time.
I knew I did—obviously. But to know it and have it confirmed are two very different things. I didn’t realize how much I’ve gaslit myself into thinking I could actually fix this with a simple apology until this very moment.
There’s nothing simple about any of this.
“I don’t know where to begin,” I find myself whispering.
His jaw tightens, and he shakes his head, looking down and muttering something I can’t make out.
“W-what was that?” I say quietly, my teeth starting to chatter.
His face scrunches up, and then he closes his eyes and unzips his jacket, mumbling a curse.
“What are y-you?—”
“This probably won’t even fit, but…whatever.”
And then Jeremy shoves his jacket at me, leaving him in nothing but a charcoal gray button-down, one that molds to his lean frame. I scramble to gather the jacket before it falls when he abruptly steps back, like even my mere proximity repulses him at this point.
“B-but aren’t you cold?”
He glares at me. “I’m fine.”
The second those bitten out words register, we both go still, our eyes widening against each other’s. The memory seemingly dragging us both down at once.
“Yeah, you’re always fucking fine. What else is new?”
We rip our gazes away at the same time, focusing on seemingly anything but each other’s faces. My neck grows hot, and despite the cold, the shiver that runs through me feels different this time.
