Page 129 of Catfish

“No, I would’ve already died from waiting to get it.”

Jed chuckles. “You should one day, seriously, it’s amazing. One of the best hole-in-the-walls in the city.”

“I’m sure it is.” I try to manage a smile, but fall short.

Jed suddenly grasps my arm and gently pulls me towards him for someone to get by. He smells like clean soap and aftershave. “How’ve you been?”

I meet his kind eyes, remembering how I used to get lost in them at sixteen. The same ones that looked at me like I was the sun, and he rotated around me. I took all those times for granted. And I wish I could change almost every single one of them.

“Busy?” he offers when I don’t answer.

I nod, blinking myself out of the past. “Yeah, real busy.”

“But you’re good?” He raises in brows, urging me to respond without taking two minutes.

“Everything is good. The governor’s delegation is coming up or something and—” I wave a hand in the air. “—he’s more of a pain.”

“It’s a lot of pressure. Grant’s—” He stops himself. And we both know why.

He knows I don’t want to hear about my ex-fiancé, or recall the fact that I fucked Grant just to get back at what I thought Jed didn’t do.

Could be because it leaves a sour taste in both of our mouths because at every one of their family functions, I was on Grant’s arm. Was getting mauled with his kisses and got my ass grabbed more times than a stress ball.

“I’m sure it is,” I agree. “Regardless, I just stay out of his way.”

Jed nods. "Good idea." He removes his hand from my arm and shoves both his in his pants pockets. "What are you doing tonight, since you're not eating?"

"There's a lot of work I have to do with a few upcoming events—" I shrug. "—probably that, and I'll pick up something on my way home."

“How about I split my Chinese and help with your stuff? We can catch up while I help you do...whatever it is that you do.”

“What do you know about a Sweet Sixteen birthday party,” I jeer.

“Besides you hating them but still wanting to crash them—” He smiles. “—nothing.”

I chuckle, moving out of the way again for someone to make their way out of the restaurant.

I’ve missed him.

His simple banter. His goofy smile. His level of calm in my chaotic world back in the day.

“Alright,” I concede. “Let’s see what you can do. But we have to drop this food off first.”

Jed agrees, and twenty minutes later, we're out and on our way to Wade's office. He followed me in his car, and when I'm about to tell him to stay inside, he's already on the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to come in.”

He lifts his shoulders. “Honestly, it’s so he can’t find something for you to do when you drop it off.”

I smirk. “Genius, Hardison.”

We make our way to the seventh floor, bag in hand, and through the reception area when I hear Wade’s monotonic voice in his office.

“Hey.” I spin around to face Jed. “I’ll be right back.” I give him a wink, leaving no room for comments as I make my way to Wade’s office door.

Leaning against the side of his desk, Wade stands there talking in front of Emmy, hands moving around in front of him as he continues with whatever he's saying. His blue sleeves are rolled up his forearms again, and his matching tie is loose around his neck.

Emmy sits on the couch, notebook and pen in hand, finding me in the doorway, and gives me a smile before returning her attention back to the man in the spotlight.

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