Page 14 of What if I Told You

“And how long have you known her?”

“What does that even matter? She’s my childhood best friend, assholes. We grew the fuck up together. I know what kind of tampons she used in high school. I know what she sounds like when she’s hungover puking in the middle of the night or early in the morning. I know she likes her coffee with way too much sugar and way too much cream. I know who her favorite celebrity crush was when she was ten. I know she used to smash up her peas and spread it over toast when she was in first grade because she thought it was good and because it made her giggle to tell people she peed on her toast. I was the one she ran to when her parents would come down hard on her for stupid reasons like she didn’t clean her room or she got a B on a test. I was with her to see her first rated R movie. You know what it was?We’re the Millers! I know she stuffs her face with cinnamon rolls when she’s nervous, and I know she gets nervous all the time over stupid shit because her parents made her that way. And I’ve watched her pop more pimples in our high school days than I ever want or need to see in my lifetime, because we are friends. The best of friends. We know everything about each other and we have since we could walk. Why do you all find it so hard to understand that a man and a woman are very capable of sharing a living space without fucking?”

Griffin nods and then steps over to me, capping my shoulder with his hand. “I’m with you, August. If you say you’re not fucking, you’re not fucking.”

“Thank you.” I inhale a deep calming breath and release it in a heavy sigh.

“But does that mean we could fuck her?”

My head spins faster than Linda Blair in theExorcist, but the moment my eyes meet Griffin’s he points at me and winks. “Got ya.”

I flip him off and grab my baseball cap, slipping it backwards on my head. “Asshat. Get out of here.”

“So, when is she coming?” Ledger asks. “And what’s her name again?”

“Her name is Ella and I’m picking her up in…” I check the time on my phone. “One hour.”

“Better get moving then.” He gestures to the door with his chin. “Airport traffic is a bitch.”

I say goodbye to the guys, grab my keys, and head out the door. No sooner does the locker room door close behind me than I hear one of them say, “They’re totally going to fuck.”

The rest of the guys agree and they have a good laugh at my expense. For a moment I consider walking back in there and raising hell, but instead I take a deep breath and keep walking down the hall with an annoyed shake of my head and roll of my eyes. Once I’m out of the building and in my car, all anger dissipates from my body, replaced only by genuine excitement. I get to see my best friend for the first time in over two years and I couldn’t be happier.

I make it into the airport just in time to see her plane has landed so I head to the escalator where I know she’ll have to come down to baggage claim. Less than ten minutes later, I’m watching her on the escalator chatting with some guy. Something inside my chest flips, causing me to stand up a little straighter, puff my own chest out a little more.

Who the hell is that guy?

She smiles at him and although it’s pissing me off that he’s smiling back at her, just taking a minute to look at her from afar when she doesn’t know I’m here is good because holy shit.

She’s gorgeous.

I mean I’ve always known she was pretty, but wow. The years have…wow, we’re not kids anymore. I suppose after only seeing her face for the past two years when we chat, I shouldn’t be surprised seeing the rest of her. I think I allowed myself to forget just how beautiful she is.

Damn…

Her chestnut-colored hair that she always used to wear in a ponytail is now in soft ringlets and dusting just past her shoulders. She wrinkles her dainty nose before scratching the top with a finger. Ella was never the tall and stick-thin type of girl. She always had curves. I spent many nights sitting on her bed while she paraded out from the bathroom in one outfit and then another only to ask me if I thought her hips looked too wide or her boobs too big.

The answer was always no because to me she was Ella.

She was perfect.

But now those very same curves have me unable to look away from her. And if I’m struggling to look away, I know exactly why that asshole won’t leave her alone. She’s dressed in a pair of black leggings that hug her body perfectly and a white crop top that shows off her fit body. The zippered sweatshirt jacket she’s wearing over top looks familiar. I cock my head, studying it, and realize it’s not just any sweatshirt, so I quickly pull my phone from my pocket and type out a text as quickly as I can.

Me

Is that my college hockey sweatshirt?

I know the moment she gets my text because her head snaps up and she looks around, but still doesn’t see me. Stepping away from the column I was leaning on, I turn my hat around backwards so she can see my face, making myself more visible. When she finally spots me, the way her eyes light up with excitement and her smile broadens across her face calms all my anxiety about the guy next to her, who she immediately ignores. Finally seeing her in person after all this time brings back every single fucking feeling…every single memory I have ever had with Ella Montgomery.

She’s here.

I can’t believe it.

She’s fucking here.

And now I’m home.

CHAPTER FOUR

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