Page 36 of Aisle Come Back to You

Now it’s my turn to be taken aback as I wrinkle my nose. “What?”

An annoyingly smug grin crosses his features. “You two were never fooling anybody. It was so obvious that you had feelings for each other. I’m just surprised it’s taken you this long to do something about it.”

My cheeks warm with color, but not for the reason he probably assumes, as I’m unfortunately reminded of the first time I tried to do something about it on Ford’s wedding day. However, despite my willingness to open up about being kissed and ultimately rejected, I’m not yet ready to reveal the details of the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. I can’t even imagine what his take on that would be, and honestly, I’d rather never know.

“Does it really even matter at this point?” I ask, doing my best to shrug him off as I run my fingers over Bubba’s soft fur. “He ended things, and I’m leaving in just over a week. I’m just sotired of thinking about this, and I’m ready to let go and finally be done with this drama once and for all.”

He lets out a small laugh as he drapes his arm over the back of the couch. “Fat chance of that. You know you’re going to obsess over this all night.”

I stick my tongue out at him before carefully removing Bubba’s paws from my lap and stand up with a satisfied huff. “Little do you know. Because, if anything, I plan to have the best sleep of my entire life. I mean, we kissed, so what?” I shrug as I walk toward the guest room where all my stuff has strategically been thrown about the room. “Now I can move on and let this old and silly crush officially die out for good. Adios! Sayonara!” I call behind me as I lift a hand and wave before doing the same with the other.

“Good luck with that,” Miles calls one last time before I shut the door behind me.

Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the door and groan. He’s right—there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep tonight.

“Ugh,” I groan, my muffled voice escaping into my pillow as I press it firmly against my face. Unlike the couch in the living room, the bed at Miles’ place is like sinking into a soft and fluffy cloud, enveloping me in its comforting embrace, yet somehow, sleep still evades me.

Normally, when I go out and drink, I peacefully pass out, but this time, just as my annoying older brother predicted, I’m wide awake, tossing and turning. Reluctantly, I let out a huff of air as I fumble through the darkness to reach for my phone.

I squint against the intense brightness, my whining growing even louder as I check the time. It’s two-fucking-thirty in themorning. I should go out and see if my brother has any melatonin or maybe even some Nyquil, because at this point, I’m desperate for sleep. Is it too much to ask for at least a few hours of peaceful rest so I can finally let go and escape this nightmare of an evening once and for all, even if it is only for a few measly hours?

I’m even more desperate since I’m supposed to be meeting Ronnie for breakfast tomorrow before helping her put together the wedding favors. I need my beauty sleep, especially since she’ll definitely be able to tell something is wrong when I show up with dark circles under my eyes that are bigger than Mount Everest. God, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be there for my best friend without making something about me?

I’m sure the blue light from my phone isn’t going to help, and I really should go and look for something to put me to sleep, but instead of doing just that, my fingers scroll through my screen until I end up in my texts and pull up in my last communication with Ford. I immediately type “I’m sorry,” but before I can hit send, I delete the message and type in something else.

Blair:You awake?

Not wanting to overthink it, I hit send as a wave of panic washes over me. Of course, he’s not awake. I’m the only idiot who’s stupid enough to overthink everything.

The irresistible urge to hurl my phone across the room consumes me, but just as I’m about to give in, three bubbles materialize. So maybe I’m not the only one awake, tormenting myself over our disaster of an evening.

With a jolt, I sit up straight in bed, eyes widening in anticipation. I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to feel right now as my emotions shift between happiness, worry, and confusion. My gaze remains fixated on the three small bubbles, teasing me as they repeatedly disappear before suddenlyresurfacing. Looks like I’m not the only one obsessing over what happened and how the hell we’re going to talk this through.

Finally, his message appears.

Ford:I’m so sorry, Blair.

Ford:The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. You have no idea how hard it was for me to pull away from that kiss. Don’t think for even one second it was because I wanted to.

Getting confirmation that he didn’t entirely want to end things brings some relief, but it doesn’t change the fact that he ultimately did. Before I have the chance to reply, three more bubbles appear as he continues typing away. Lifting my hand, I nervously nibble on the edge of my thumbnail, a horrible habit, especially since I’d only just gotten a fresh manicure a few days ago.

Ford:Ever since we kissed that first time, I’ve dreamed about what it would be like to kiss you again, and while it was mind-blowing and everything I’d ever imagined it would be, I also didn’t want it to be something you’d regret. I also know you were drinking earlier, and I just panicked. I can’t be the guy that takes advantage of you in a weak moment. If we kiss again, I need it to be when you are fully clear-headed and know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s something you want.

My breath catches, and a flutter runs through me as I read his message. Okay, so maybe it’s still slightly annoying that he ended things since that kiss was anything but a drunken mistake, but at least it shows he still cares. It also shows thathe’s still the same Ford I fell in love with when we were kids—his genuine kindness and unwavering protectiveness remain. He’s always had a special knack for looking out for others, particularly me.

Before I can type out a reply, he once again beats me to it. “Come on, Ford,” I mumble to myself as I toss my head back in frustration.

Ford: So what do you think? Do you think it’s possible that I’ll get a second chance?

I bite my bottom lip as it tugs up into a smile. Hell, we aren’t even in the same room and the guy has me blushing.

Blair:That depends…

Ford:On what?

Blair:How much begging you plan to do for my forgiveness

Ford: Oh, so it’s like that, huh? Plus, I was thinking the next time we kissed, it would be you who’d do the begging.

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