Page 48 of When We Meet Again

“I should get going. Your luggage will be dropped off soon.”

She throws her arms around my neck and her lips graze my cheek. “Thank you, Roman. This was the best birthday.”

That’s sad, but I’m happy I was able to be a part of her “best birthday.” I wrap her in a tight hug, breathing in her shampoo one last time before we went our separate ways for a few days. Hopefully, it’s not too long.

“Bye, Roman.” I watch her walk inside but stand outside of her door like a creeper for a couple of minutes, deciding whether or not I want to join her inside. Instead, I head down the steps to my bike, shoot a text to Hendrix to meet me at my house, and get the hell out of there before I do something stupid.

The ridefrom Waverly’s to mine was short enough that I didn’t have time to overthink what all went down on the trip.

No sooner do I get home and change than Hendrix helps himself into my house.

“You told me to bring reinforcements, but you never specified whether we’re getting over someone or under them.” Hendrix holds up tequila and a bag of limes in one hand, andJameson and cigars in the other. “So, I come bearing all the gifts.”

“You’re a good man. It might be a little of both.” I slap his back and close the door.

“Uh-oh. Did something happen on the trip?” I waste no time pulling two whiskey glasses out and two shot glasses.

“You could say that.” I tell him about Lena being there and how my mom invited her. And how I kissed Waverly in the rain, and how I’ve been knocking items off her bucket list. I told him everything.

He shoots back a tequila, strolls out to my back patio, and lights up his already-cut cigar. “Damn. That’s a lot. So what do you plan on doing? It’s been a year since Patrick died.”

“Yeah. And that’s what makes it so fucked up. I’m macking on my brother's fiancée.”

He puffs out a plume of smoke and hesitates before he spills a sour truth that tastes like absolute shit. “I don’t thinkthat’s the problem, man.”

Confusion takes over. Hendrix is about to spill his words of wisdom again, and I almost wish I hadn’t called him to come over. “I’d be more afraid that I was a rebound. I mean, you can’t fucking help who you love, my dude. But you can try to protect yourself. She was out of the game for what? Five? Six years? She’s been mourning someone she was supposed tomarry. And it’s not aboutwhoyou are, butwhenyou stepped into her world.”

I lean against the stucco, tilt my head back, and admire the stars.Another clear night, perfect for stargazing.

If someone were to tell me that I’d be asking Hendrix for relationship advice, I would have laughed in their face. But this goofball standing in front of me with a cigar in his mouth, holding a tequila in one hand and a whiskey in another just made a valid point. I know I told her I didn’t want to be arebound, but what if I am? What if I’m just a steppingstone into the dating pool? A bitter taste transpires in my mouth and it’s not the alcohol.

He’s right.

“You’re right. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’ve never dealt with something like this. Our situation is different, it’s?—”

He interrupts, “Why don’t…nah.”

Now I’m annoyed. “Why don’t I what?”

“No. You’ll hate it.” Hendrix sets his tequila down, and holds his cigar in one hand while he slurps a sip from the bottom of his whiskey.

“Spit it out, dickhead.” I’ve listened to him this far, and I’m willing to take any advice given.

“Why don’t you convince her to date someone?”

I regret asking for his advice.

“The fuck, Hendrix? And what if I’mnota rebound? I’m just supposed to push her into someone else’s arms. That’s dumb.”

“Is it?” Hendrix shakes his head. “If your connection is as strong as you say it is, she’ll take your advice, go on a date, and be thinking about you the whole time.” He takes another pull of the cigar. “She’ll realize howshefeels. And it gives you some time away to see howyoufeel.”

Is he right? Hendrix may have a big mouth, but his advice has always been that of a ninety-year-old who has lived a life full of experiences, ready to verbally vomit all advice.

All my life I’ve followed in Patrick’s footsteps and have always fallen short. At least until I decided to pave my own path. I hate thinking about how I can never live up to the ridiculous expectations my brother has from our parents. Or maybe they weren’t my parents’ expectations at all, but my own. I was always overshadowed, and I know that Waverly’s relationship with Patrick was strained on a good day. It still digs up everyinsecurity in me that a relationship between me and her will follow suit. I’ll fall short just like I always did. But this is not something I want tofall shortat doing.

I need to make sure I’m not only protecting her from wasting her time, but I need to protect myself.

“I need another drink,” I push off from the wall and go to pour us two large glasses of whiskey and take them back out to the patio. He looks at the drinks in my hand. “Good decision.”

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