Page 6 of Tell Me Again

“Coop,” I breathe. I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve even said his name. Too long. Much, much too long.

His expression is guarded, as it should be, I suppose. After what I did to him, I deserve much worse than just a clenched jaw and a frown. But then he blinks and loosens up and gives me something that resembles a smile. A tight smile. That in no way reaches his eyes.

My stomach lurches.

“Josh, funny seeing you here,” he says, his voice still rich and deep. But I hear a wariness in his tone as he adds, “It’s been, what, ten years now?”

The kiss. His lips on mine. Chocolate. He’d tasted like chocolate. My eyes can’t help but flit down to his lips for a moment as an intense warmth spreads in my chest. I quickly clear my throat and look back up.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, m-maybe about that long.” Smooth. But what the hell am I supposed to say? I can’t defend my actions, not really. No matter how I justified them at the time. Besides, the time to do so would have been, oh, I dunno, like ten years ago. Not now. God, what the hell did I do?

He reaches out to hand me my wallet, that forced smile now gone from his lips. My chest tightens, and I can barely stop my hand from shaking as I take the wallet from him. I’m hoping, almost desperately so, that my fingers touch his. It’s such a deep ache, a longing. And it surprises me so much that I think I hold my breath. But it doesn’t happen. He seems careful of that, pulling his hand back quickly.

Dammit. I wonder if the disappointment shows on my face.

I smile as best I can, holding up the wallet. “Thanks. Can’t believe I forgot it.”

“Happens more often than you’d think,” he says, not quite looking at me now. “Lucky you were still close by.”

His forced smile is back, and I wish I could pretend that I didn’t see it, that I didn’t know.

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely. We’re just—we’re staying at the motel just down the road, actually. We’ll be in town for a couple weeks.”

There’s a subtle pause and another not-so-subtle shift in his expression. Another flicker of something in his eyes. I want to imagine it’s hope. But why the hell would I want that? Wouldn’t it be easier if he just told me he hated me and to piss off and that I should be on my way? It would be. Much easier.

But no, I see it again—a flicker in his eyes. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and backs away just a step. And he looks about to say something, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Coop! Table eight needs coffee.”

Both of us jump slightly, and with a sheepish grin—oh, god, there it is—he shrugs and glances over his shoulder.

“Got it, Mel!” He turns back to me, and for whatever reason, I can no longer read anything at all into his expression. Like he’s completely locked everything away. I feel sick. “I, uh, gotta get back to work. See you around. We should catch up sometime.”

The words sound stale. Sort of like when someone asks how you’re doing and you just respond with a vague “I’m okay,” even when you’re really, really not.

Like right now.

I manage a nod. “Yeah, for sure. We should.”

“Great.” Fake smile again. I’m definitely gonna be sick. He gives me something of a little wave and then spins around and jogs off, disappearing through the doors leading into the kitchen.

I can’t move for a long moment. I’m not even sure I’m breathing. Watching him leave, which he was obviously in quite a hurry to do, is like throwing a bucket of ice water on me. The warmth is gone, replaced by some deep, sudden chill as my father’s angry words echo in my head.

“The fuck is going on here?”

A hand sets on my shoulder, and I flinch. God, I’m wound up today.

It’s just Brenna. And her touch is sweet and gentle, like it always is. She steps in front of me as her hand slides down my arm to my elbow.

“Did they have it?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah,” I answer, holding up my wallet. Shit, I can almost still feel the warmth from where his fingers were, so close to mine. A tingle of something shoots all the way down into my toes.

“Dammit. What the fuck, Josh!”

“Dad, I—it—it wasn’t—”

“You, Jackson, you get the fuck out of my house! I don’t ever want to see you here again. And Josh, you fuckin’ stay here. I’m not done with you yet.”

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