Page 58 of Old Habits

I glance over my shoulder at Will in the doorway. “What was?”

He walks over as he slides the phone into his pocket. “The pizza delivery guy just asked how I was holding up.”

I blink. “Wow. Jovie Watch sure is organized.”

“It’s okay. I milked it pretty hard and he threw in some free cheesy bread to help make me feel better.”

“Using emotional manipulation to score free stuff?” I laugh. “I must be rubbing off on you already, Myers.”

“Must be.” He looks at the photo in my hand. “Oh, yeah. That.”

“I’d believe you if you said the cat did it, but…” I clear my throat, “I can’t help but notice that you don’t have a cat.”

“I was angry,” he says slowly. “And then, I wasn’t angry anymore.”

“Well, I like it. It tells a story, you know? Before, it was just two happy people. Now, they have wrinkles and scars but they’re still there. Still looking all happy and shit.”

Will snatches it from my hand and sets it down on the desk. “Want a drink?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

We move toward the door but Will stops me. “Hang on…”

I listen as he closes the window blinds in the front room and I wait patiently in the door frame until he comes back to retrieve me.

“We’re officially alone,” he says.

“No torches?”

“No torches or pitchforks in sight.” His eyes drift from mine to my lips, triggering a rush of heat through my core.

I hold my breath to keep my knees stable. “Will…”

He holds up a finger. “Wait… Don’t say anything for a little bit. I want to enjoy this for a second.”

I count slowly in my head until I reach five. “Enjoy what?”

“I missed you,” he says. “That’s all.”

“Yeah. I missed you, too.”

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. Felt strange not having you down the street all the time; causing trouble.”

“If only anyone else agreed.”

“Tucker does.”

I roll my eyes. “Tucker once took a bullfrog to a school dance.”

“Because you dared him to.”

I chuckle. “Oh, yeah…”

Will steps back through the hallway toward the kitchen. I follow behind him, casually glancing at his firm rear in the shadows.

“No, Jovie,” he says, popping the refrigerator open. “You’re not as universally hated around here as you might think.”

I lean on the island counter. “Name one other person besides you or Tucker.”

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