Page 54 of Tell Me Again

“Bren, how are you so wonderful to me?” I ask as I let myself be wrapped up in her embrace.

Her answer comes softly but without hesitation. “Because you’re still my best friend. And I still love you. And”—she pulls back to look at me, one tear slipping down her cheek—“you deserve to be happy.”

I shake my head, not because I don’t think I deserve to be happy, but because I think she deserves it more. She doesn’t let me say anything though; she just pulls me back in for another hug, this one shorter but no less amazing.

When we step back a few moments later, she’s still smiling, and her eyes are bright and curious.

“Soooooo, what did he say?” she asks.

I immediately feel hot and flushed again. “Uh, well, he’s... I mean, we’re... we’re going to go on sort of a, uh, date tomorrow, and...”

I shove my hands into my pockets and keep my eyes trained on the ground because no matter how wonderful she is, it has to be difficult hearing this.

But somehow I’ve underestimated her. Again.

She giggles a little and pats my arm playfully. “Oh my god, Josh, you’re blushing right now, and it’s absolutely adorable,” she teases. When I finally glance up again, her whole expression has softened. “I’m really, really happy for you.”

“Th-thank you, Bren. I can’t even tell you how much that means to me, how much you mean to me...”

She doesn’t say anything else. She just pulls me back in for one more hug.

Chapter Twenty-One

Coop

I’m way too fucking nervous. I’m also not proud to say it took me about fifteen minutes to style my hair and about twenty minutes to decide what to wear before I’d finally landed on a plain, light-gray shirt with my best pair of dark-wash jeans. Admittedly, everything this morning seemed to take me twice as long as normal because my shoulders and back are fucking sore from yesterday and I ran out of Advil. The measly three bucks I’d had on me when I went to Amy’s last night to get something cheap to eat hadn’t been enough to also get another bottle. So I’m fucked until tomorrow at least.

And since I still don’t trust my truck, I’m here at the bowling alley much too early, which means waiting, which means more time to get nervous.

Shit.

I’ve never dated before. Not once. And I’m not sure Josh realizes that. I probably should have told him. There’s probably a protocol or something for this type of thing. And now that I didn’t follow it and didn’t tell him, he’s going to be terribly disappointed when he finds out I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.

That’s a ridiculous train of thought, and I quickly dismiss it as I climb out of my truck and pull my coat around me. It’s fucking cold again—well below freezing—and I’m thinking I should probably just stay in my truck until Josh gets here. But since I’m a fucking idiot, that’s not what I do. I stand there. Freezing my ass off.

Just when I’m starting to get worried that he’s going to be late or not show, I see him pulling up in that nice, shiny new sedan he drives, which I think might actually be Brenna’s. He turns into the parking lot and then takes the spot right next to my truck.

And, god, I’m still fucking nervous and might be shaking.

He’s up and out of the car within seconds, and as soon as our eyes meet, all that nervous energy turns into something completely different and much more pleasant. Some sort of fluttering in my chest. He’s somehow more attractive now than yesterday, which doesn’t seem possible. His gorgeous eyes are bright and excited, and his smile—god, I might just melt.

Is this what swooning feels like?

“Hey,” I say. Totally not awkward. Totally not at all awkward. Fuck, I’m an idiot. And my cheeks feel flushed, which has to be because I’ve been standing out in the cold. Not because he’s fucking sexy as hell and I can’t take it.

“H-hey,” he says. And he’s just adorably awkward enough that I smile back. At least we’ll both be awkward together?

“Glad you made it, um—” Shit. I want to kiss him or maybe at least hold his hand, but I’m unsure of the protocol again. There’s probably some rule about PDAs on a first date, right? Or PDAs in general? Ah, fuck if I know.

“We should go inside? It’s pretty cold.” He tilts his head toward the building, and I nod, because that’s the easiest thing to do. Much easier than trying to form words.

“Yeah, yeah, definitely.”

There’s some more awkwardness as we both start toward the building together, walking about a foot apart. He’s close enough that my desire to touch him ramps up a notch, especially when I realize how good he smells. God, his aftershave is sexy.

Actually, his everything is sexy.

“So,” he says, clearing his throat, “please tell me you’re not quite as good at bowling as you are at pool?”

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