Page 30 of Aisle Come Back to You

“Fine,” he says, throwing his hands up, knife and all. “You win.”

I look between the two of them. “You win what? What’d I miss?”

“I’ll come. Blair has been hounding me all day about going out with you guys. Just know I’m going to be miserable the entire time.”

Blair props her boots beneath her armpit before happily clapping her hands together. “Good. Plus, you’ve been constantly hounding me about our lack of quality time while I’m home, and now we have the opportunity to spend an entire night together.”

Miles sets the knife down with a shake of his head. “Yeah, with you and the rest of the three stooges, and whoever else is crazy enough to marry Veronica Prescott. You’re already making me regret this, you know?” he says, turning off the stove before exiting the kitchen area while wiping his hands on his sweatpants.

“We’re the three stooges, huh?” I ask with mild amusement, even though Miles is sending an annoyed glance my way. “Which one am I?”

“Oh, you’re Larry, without a doubt,” Blair decides right away with a definitive nod, which I suppose fits. Larry did have a tendency to go along with the crazy plans of the other two, and it seems I’ve yet to outgrow that part of myself.

“While you two ding-dongs figure that out, I’m going to hurry and change,” Miles says, excusing himself.

With her boots back in hand, Blair finally moves to the couch and takes a seat as I follow closely behind, feeling a bit more comfortable with Miles out of the room.

I also do my best not to let my eyes roam over her body, since damn, she looks amazing tonight, but then again, what else is new? I’ve never failed to be impressed not only by her beauty, but also her unique personal style. In a place like Evergreen Grove, where being different draws extra attention, she’s never been afraid to be her true self and stand out.

“You look really good,” I can’t help but blurt.

She looks up at me, grinning. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she says, her eyes scanning me from top to bottom.

I do the same and shift my gaze downward. I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt with a red and black flannel thrown over the top—nothing even remotely special. “Sorry, but I’ve got nothing on you,” I argue.

“That’s debatable,” she challenges, holding out a hand so I can help her stand up now that her boots are securely in place.

“I’m more than willing to debate this with you, since, like usual, I’ll win,” I joke, letting her hand fall into mine as my fingers wrap around hers and pull her up and into me.

Like the day in the dressing room, a warm silence envelopes the two of us, but instead of acting like a sane person, I find myself utterly transfixed by her, and instead of letting go of her hand, we hold on.

“Ford,” she softly whispers, her lips drawing my gaze.

I battle against the overwhelming impulse to lean in and kiss her, summoning every ounce of self-restraint I possess. As much as I want to take advantage of the moment, deep down I know that this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.

“Alright, I’m ready,” Miles’s deep voice says, breaking the magic as I drop Blair’s hand and take a large step back. If I’m going to kiss Blair again, I need the moment to be right, and it certainly isn’t going to be in her brother’s apartment with him in the next room.

“Perfect. So are we,” Blair says, her calm reply making me question my instincts, as if the almost-kiss never happened. Did I just make that all up in my head?

Maybe I misinterpreted the moment, and she hadn’t been feeling the same powerful pull that I was. Thank God I hadn’t followed my instincts and leaned in to kiss her. She had just told me yesterday that she didn’t think we could work, and maybe I need to start taking her word on that a bit more seriously.

Even though I know she’s only here because of Ronnie and her wedding, I can’t deny that every feeling I’ve ever had for her has come flooding back. Sure, the timing might finally work in my favor, but it may be time to face the facts: I waited too damn long, and Blair got sick of waiting.

16

Blair

Iknow I didn’tjust make that up in my head. Ford had wanted to kiss me, and if Miles hadn’t walked out at that exact moment, it probably would’ve happened. The opportunity was right there. All I had to do was lean in half an inch closer, and our lips would’ve connected.

The worst and most embarrassing part is, I’d wanted it to happen. Unfortunately, given our shared history, it’s impossible for us to simply have a few random kisses or a casual hookup and expect things to return to normal. Then again, what evenisnormal when it comes to us? If I thought I was confused back then, it’s a thousand times more confusing now.

I’d avoided things happening between us for so long because of the possibility of jeopardizing our friendship, but I’m no longer sure what exactly I’m trying to preserve anymore. Sure, we’re slowly finding our footing once again, and I’m not completely oblivious—I get that the feelings are mutual, especially since I’ve come to realize that my own feelings neverwent away. It’s no longer possible to lie to myself about it anymore, but seriously, what kind of future could we realistically have?

It’s not like we can avoid the elephant in the room either. Ford is going through a divorce, and even if he wants to play it off like he’s ready to move on, how can I believe he’s truly ready? I know Ford well enough to understand I wouldn’t be some random rebound to get him through the initial pain, but there’s no denying this would be a little fast, even with our shared history.

It doesn’t help that I already know how everyone in town would see it—I’d once again be the villain in this particular story. The preconceived judgments were easy enough to blow off in high school, and mostly, I didn’t mind taking the heat, but now that we’re grown adults and Ford’s reputation as a well-liked and respected teacher is on the line, I’m no longer comfortable bringing him down with me. I refuse to do that to him.

Fortunately, I managed to persuade Miles to join us tonight, intentionally placing him between Ford and me as we sat at the table. I can’t say Ford seems to be the biggest fan of this arrangement; he was not only silent on the drive over, but he’s currently sitting up straight with his arms folded. There’s always been something about my brother that puts him on edge. While I usually find it mildly amusing, it’s hard not to feel at least alittlebit guilty about it.

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