Page 20 of Meet Me in the Blue

I pulled up the long, tree-lined driveway toward Rook’s place, the gravel crunching under my tires. The house didn’t look the same as the pictures he’d sent me when he’d thought about buying it. The moon spread shadows over the property, giving it an eerie feeling. Or maybe that was my nerves coming out to play. How shit of a person was I that I had to ask my mom for my best friend’s address? I should have had it in my contacts list on my phone. I should have been brave enough to visit ages ago. But I was a broken record, and I couldn’t fix the mistakes I’d made. I could only try and do better.

Warm light spilled from the front windows, and from one of the dormers on the second floor as I shut the door behind me. I could hear the ocean, smell the salt in the air. Wet pine needles were scattered along the walkway toward the front door, laughter from inside bled through the siding of the house, and that unnerving feeling faded. This place felt like Rook. I took a long breath and rang the bell.

“You made it.” Rook gave me a half-smile, leaning against the door frame, his dimples hardly noticeable. “I didn’t think you’d remember the address.”

I dropped my gaze to my feet, ran a hand through my hair. I’d never been able to lie to him. “My mom gave me the address.”

“Of course she did,” he said, but it hadn’t sounded rude, or like he was angry. Just a statement of truth. “Come on in.”

The guys were laughing about something, and we followed the sound of it through the entryway. I fell behind, trying to absorb everything, every detail of the man I’d once known better than myself. The space was open and welcoming. The dark stone of the fireplace rose all the way to the top of the vaulted ceiling, and right above the mantel, the Vancouver hockey game played on a huge, wide-screen television. The sound was muted, but I smiled when the camera focused on Rook’s brother Reese as he took the ice. Rook’s dog jumped down from the large, gray, overstuffed sectional that was the centerpiece of the room, and nudged her wet nose into my hand, snuffling against my palm.

“This is Maribelle,” Rook said, the deep rumble of his voice vibrated around my spine. “She can be kind of needy.”

“I don’t mind.” I bent down to pet her, and she licked my face.

Chuckling, I wiped the slobber from my cheek.

“Travis and Will are here, Ron too.” He nodded. “They’re in the kitchen.”

“When did they get into Magic?” I asked, the question more accusatory than I’d meant it to sound.

“This summer.” He eyed me, the corner of his lip twitching as he asked, “Why does it matter?”

“They used to make fun of us for playing shit like this,” I said and caught a glimpse of Ron in the kitchen. “Well… Will and Travis made fun of me.”

“Hey, they bullied the hell out of me in grade school.”

“Then you joined the hockey team and—”

“They’re good guys. You’ve never given them a chance.” Rook shoved his hand into his pocket. “They’re your friends too.”

“By association.” My jaw clenched, but then Maribelle licked my fingers and I exhaled. “I never understood why you trusted them... after how they treated us in elementary school.”

“They were kids,” he said, and his shoulders stiffened. “And people change. Some for the better.”

And some for the worse.

The five words were left unspoken, but they hit their intended target just the same.

I shouldn’t have come here.

“I—”

Rook gripped my shoulder. The contact was sudden, and the heat of his skin soaked through the fabric of my hoodie. Or maybe I’d imagined it, wanted it. Needed it more than I’d needed anything in a long time. “I’m glad you’re here.” A soft, hesitant smile lit his eyes. “Come on, before those idiots eat all the pizza.”

The guys were huddled around the kitchen island. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was colored in steel and stone and driftwood grays. It was open with a tall ceiling and more cabinets than a single guy would ever need. Ron was the first to acknowledge me, lifting his chin in a silent hello. He held out his hand, and I shook it.

Pulling me into a side hug, he said, “Welcome back.”

“Thanks.”

My cheeks heated as everyone stared in my direction. I was out of place in a house where I should have felt like I belonged, and I had no one to blame except myself. “Travis, Will. It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, man.” Travis stole a glance at Rook. “What’s it been? Four, five years?”

“It’s been too long,” I said. I only had eyes for Rook. I didn’t owe these guys anything. I was here for my best friend. “I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Sorry about your dad,” Will said, and it hit me how much I’d started to hate the word sorry.

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