Page 17 of Tell Me Again

God, Coop must really, really hate me.

I don’t know what I’d expected. I mean, he has a perfectly good reason to feel that way. But I’d really hoped to get the chance to tell him how sorry I am, that I wish I could go back in time and somehow undo how I’d treated him. How I’d lied. How I’d ignored him and abandoned him...

I had the chance. He gave me that chance today. And I screwed it up.

I shut my phone off and pull out of the parking lot, headed west along Route 6, and the numbness spreads until I really can’t even feel my hands on the steering wheel. Which is probably really safe. At least there aren’t many other cars on the road.

It’s not a long drive out to the Richards’ home, and I’ve gone and made myself a little late now. But I still take my time, and I try the whole way not to let my thoughts wander too far. And dammit, I’m certainly not going to let myself cry before I get there or while I’m there or hopefully afterward.

Brenna’s parents don’t need to see that.

Brenna doesn’t need to see that, either.

The tears are there though, right at the edges of my eyes. I wipe them away as I pull into the driveway. It’s a long cobblestone path between two dark-stained wooden fences lining huge grass fields that used to be horse pastures, I think. When the house comes into view, I see Brenna sitting outside on the front porch, watching as I drive up.

Of course she’s waiting for me. My lack of response to her texts probably told her everything she needed to know.

She stands up as I park the car, and when I get out, she’s already on her way down the stairs and heading toward me. I smile the best I can, but I know she’s not going to be fooled by any smile or any reassurance I can give her right now.

The amazing woman she is, she doesn’t even ask me to explain. She just steps right up to me, wraps her arms around my waist, and pulls me into her for a hug. And it’s all I can do then to not cry. Part of it is the relief of knowing she’s here for me, although that feeling is now followed by some stabbing pain in my chest and a rush of guilt. She gives so much to me. And even with that, even knowing that, I still hold myself back. She still doesn’t know why the hell this is affecting me so much.

I rest my head on top of hers and close my eyes as she rubs my back softly. The relief mixes with the pain, and it’s almost too much. I hold her to me tighter and then kiss the top of her head.

“We should go inside,” I say. I’m not sure if I’m really ready, if I’ve pulled myself together enough that I won’t break down in front of her parents. But I can hope. And I hate to make her stand out here in the cold any longer.

She pulls back out of the embrace a bit, her expression worried, then she reaches up and touches my cheek. I feel dampness as she wipes away a tear. Dammit. I step away from her and quickly wipe my eyes.

“I-I’m fine, babe, really, I . . .”

I’m not sure why I even tried the lie with her. She sort of purses her lips and shakes her head slightly, because she just knows, and then she stretches up to kiss my cheek.

“If you want, I can tell my parents we’re just going to go back to the motel early, and—”

“No, no. I’m fine. I mean, I’ll be fine, and later, um... We—we can talk, later?”

“Okay,” she says quietly. Her hand slips into mine, and she squeezes gently and then leads us inside.

The next four hours are a blur, really. I manage to participate in whatever conversation happens, but I can’t say I’m really present. Brenna helps me out whenever I get lost, because she’s wonderful. And her parents are too, really. But by the time we’re on our way back to the motel, I’m feeling all sorts of exhausted and sad and guilty and a bunch of other things, and... hell, I just want to crawl into bed and pretend the day didn’t happen.

Brenna heads straight to take a shower when we get back, and when she’s done, I take my own turn. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I come out of the bathroom, and she looks up at me with the kindest smile as she sets her phone on the nightstand. Then she reaches out a hand to me, and I join her, letting myself melt into her embrace.

Her hugs are the best, really. Warm and comforting and...

God, what am I doing? I’ve already ruined the best friendship I’d ever had, and now, I’m lying to my new best friend every day, every moment I’m here with her. It’s not fair to her.

I pull away, stand up, and move a little ways across the room, suddenly needing the space.

“Josh?”

“Babe, I . . .”

I feel her hands on my back, rubbing up to my shoulders, and I let out a long sigh. She presses up against me as her hands slide down again to wrap around my waist.

“You didn’t get to tell him what you’d wanted to? Or he didn’t take it the way you’d hoped? Or both?”

I turn around in her arms, and she brings her hands up to my cheeks and stretches up to kiss me. God, I wish I felt something from it. But I don’t. It’s just her lips on mine. Nothing else.

Coop’s kiss, though... It happened ten years ago, and I can still feel it. The heat and the tingling and my heart racing and...

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