Page 23 of When We Meet Again

“Now imagine telling your brother you’re going to talk tothatgirl after you take a piss. You point her out to him. He agrees you made a good choice because she’s ‘stunning.’”

I can tell Hendrix knows where this is going, but he still says nothing as he goes to chug the rest of his beer.

“So after you get out of the bathroom, he’s the one chatting her up at the bar. She’s tapping her number into his phone. But instead of being a dick and saying, ‘I saw her first,’ you give her up to him because the last time he was with a woman, she fucked him over so bad, he was majorly depressed.” After that info dump, I inhale a deep breath.

“Age is nothing but a number.” I keep going. “Waverly’s beautiful. So what if she has a few crinkles around her eyes when she smiles, or random gray hairs in her blonde ponytail? There was something about her that made me want to give it all up. I didn’t even fucking know her.” I aggressively rake my hands through my hair.

Hendrix drops his head and slowly swings it back and forth. “I can’t believe he did that to you.”

I knock on the bar in defeat. “Shit happens. Who knows, maybe back then I would’ve fucked it up, you know? Maybe there was a reason it all had to happen this way.”

My friend slaps my shoulder. “Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe Patrick was just a dick. I don’t want to sit here and speak ill of the unliving, but your brother never really seemed interested inhaving a girlfriend—I mean, that’s the vibe I got from him the few times we went out.”

I laugh, remembering Patrick’s twenty-fifth birthday when Mom and Dad asked him if he was gay. They insisted they’d love him no matter what. I was nine, confused as to why they thought that since he had a stack of magazines full of naked women under his bed. A month later he brought home his first girlfriend. She was perfect for him: an introvert, chem major at Stanford. She was not a woman who ignited a room when she walked into it. She didn’t get the attention of everyone around her, not because of her looks, but because of her vibe. She blended in with others just like he did.

“Whatever, man.” I digress. “She’shere.He’sgone. And no, I’m not going to sleep with her. She’s still Patrick’s woman.”I think.I signal for another brew from the bartender.

Hendrix turns on the stool, straightens up, and his lips fall into a straight line. “What he did wasn’t right. No matter what you say, ‘meant to be’ and all that shit. But Hux…Patrick is gone.” He enunciates the last part, but so low I barely hear him. “Sheisn’tyour brother’s.” His palms fly in front of him. Hendrix was always one to speak with his hands. “And I’m not saying right now, but maybe, eventually, this is your chance. Maybe, just maybe, it happened the way it did so the two of you could build a foundation on friendship and trust.” A laugh slides out of him as the bartender slides us our new drinks. “Hell, you shouldnevermeet a girl at a bar. Nothing good can come of a relationship like that unless you develop a deep friendship first.”

“What the hell did you do with my immature best friend?” I cock my brow and slurp down the cold Corona sitting in front of me. I toy with the lime between my fingers.

“I can be mature sometimes.” He holds his bottle to mine. “But don’t get used to it. And don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation with the ladies,” he jokes.

He’s right, though…maybe this is how it was supposed to be.

CHAPTER 14

WAVERLY

Fortunate:I have someone in my life who is guiding me like a father figure would.

Unfortunate: Nightmares keep me awake almost every night.

The warmthof the sun is hugging my soul. I allow my arm to fall to my side, yet unable to move the rest of my body. There he is. “Patrick?” I peek out of the corner of my eye to look at him.

“Waverly, wake up! You need to move. The water, it’s coming fast!” I start to panic. A massive wave is barreling toward us, but I can’t move! My body is dead weight, and my eyes will barely open.

“Waverly! Waverly…”

“Waverly…Waverly…” A hand touches my shoulder and I pop up, sweating and out of breath. I look around filled with pure panic, searching my surroundings for safety…Roman.

He sits down on the bed next to me with fear in his eyes. “Hey, are you okay? Breathe…” His hand rubs my back in slow, steady circles. I don’t ask him why he’s here or how he got in, I’m just relieved I’m not alone.

My breathing slows and I rub my clammy hands over my sweaty face. “Yes. It was just a nightmare.” I realize that I’m wearing nothing but a thin white cami and I tug the blanket around my chest. The damage was already done. He tries to recover his gaze that dropped to my breasts which were on full display. His throat bobs up and down and he looks down at the bed.

“Do you have them often?” he asks, concerned.

I nod and take a few more deep breaths. “Almost every night. Always the same. It’s Patrick screaming at me to wake up and telling me to run. My body won’t move and my eyes barely open and the wave… It’s so big…”

Roman pulls me into him and kisses the crown of my head. A caring gesture. “I’m so sorry, Kensi. I’m sorry you had to go through all of it alone.”

I wasn’t completely alone. I had Tom. Tom had a way with words—of calming me down for hours…hours that had turned into days until I could finally get off that mountainside. He had a soft voice and a caring way about him. A kindred spirit. I haven’t told Roman about him yet, or my mom. My mother would probably have me admitted if she found out I was writing letters to a man on the other side of the world, seeking advice on Tao.

“What is it? You just tensed up,” Roman almost whispers. He lets go of me, putting space between us.

“It wasn’t you. I just…I have to tell you something.” He waits, challenging me to tell him my secret. “I’m talking to someone.”

And now he’s standing. “I mean, it’s not what you think.” I release the blanket against my chest and stand up in front of him.

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