Page 46 of Forget Me Not

He waves his hand, dismissing the mix up. “No worries.” He turns, heading back to his previously abandoned drink. “Anyway, I’m sorry about busting in on you. I would have gone to my sister’s but I know her, the girl never goes to the store. Never home long enough to bother with it. But this place is always stocked. Not that Coop’s on top of feeding herself more than my sister is, but Gun’s kind of a freak about keeping the kitchen stocked, probably because he’s always in it. When it comes to that man and cooking, he doesn’t like to work with limited ingredients, you know what I’m saying?”

I don’t. I don’t have a fucking clue what he’s saying. Mostly because all I heard was Gun and how he bought the OJ, after that, all the words coming out of Ed’s mouth just sort of slurred together. “Keep it.”

“Huh?” He looks confused, juice halfway to his lips, preparing to take another gulp.

“The OJ. Keep it. It’s yours.”

He makes a face. “You’re one of those germaphobes, huh? I swear I don’t have cooties.” He laughs at his own joke.

“It’s not your germs that bother me,” I say curtly, tempted to march for the fridge and start emptying it out.

Ed’s eyes follow my stare and I can sense an understanding settling in. “You’re never going to be able to get rid of everything he’s touched in here,” he points out the obvious, a distinct defensiveness to his tone. “Whatever you do or don’t remember, you need to know. They’rebestfriends. Gun and Coop. Shit they been through together, can’t be erased. Can’t be forgotten. God knows they’ve both tried.” He screws the cap back on the juice, a poignant move on his way back to the fridge. “You got the girl, man. That’s just going to have to be enough for you.”

“You didn’t come here looking for a drink,” I point out as he starts back for the door.

He pauses, turning back to look at me over his shoulder. “You know, you haven’t changed much Reed McAlister.” He smirks. “You’re still very...perceptive.” His smirk stretches into a mocking smile and then he’s gone. And I’m stuck here, with no knowledge of how or why I haven’t changed and why that means I have to live with Gun’s damn OJ in my fridge. And I don’t know which pisses me off more.

Cooper

“This is good coffee.” I have another sip. It’s not great but it’s put our previous conversation on hold, so it makes me think it tastes better than it really does.

“Gun’s is better.” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth as if she can stuff the words back in. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I frown at my cup, which suddenly appears laden with disappointment. “It’s true.” I sigh and remind myself that drinking subpar coffee is still better than discussing my sudden lack of sex drive, then take a determined gulp, disregarding the scorching sensation as it travels down my throat.

“Oh, shit,” she mumbles, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head as though she’s experiencing a sort of mind exploding epiphany, “that’s not the problem, is it?”

“That I’m stuck drinking crap coffee for the rest of my life because Gun has abandoned me for all eternity? I mean, it’s a problem, sure...but I can get past it.” I laugh to try and hide just how completely gut wrenching it is to even utter his name. I’m sure it will change. I’m sure I’ll get pastthat,too.

Her hand clasps my arm and she gets serious. “No...not Gun’s coffee.” She makes a face, her brows rising, her mouth scrunching while her pupils bob up and down trying to convey some sort of message I’m not getting. “You know...is Gunbetterthan Reed?”

The realization of what she’s been insinuating hits and it’s a swirl of guilt and disgust dropping into my gut like lead. “No! God, Cammie!” I shake, trying to physically discard the ick spreading over my skin from head to toe. It’s not working. “I can’t believe you would even say that.”

She shrugs, sipping her coffee and shaking our bag of pastries in front of my face with her other hand. “Cinnamon bun?”

I snatch the bag and scowl. “Not every inappropriate thought can be erased with a sweet, Cammie. Especially not after it’s been vocalized.”

She says nothing. Out loud anyway. Her expression says plenty.

“I’m not wrong,” I insist, shoving a gooey wheel of dough and buttery, sugary cinnamon in my mouth.

“Neither am I,” she counters, noticeably putting off filling her mouth. Means she has more to say. “Something is keeping you from jumping that man’s bones, and if it’s not Gun, what is it?”

“Maybe I just want to savor this time, take it slow and really appreciate every moment of getting to know him again, getting to know who he’s become...”

Her brow arches slightly, shifting her expression from stern to curious. “Are you saying he’s changed? Like, he’s not the same guy from before the accident?”

“Neither of us is. You really think I’m the same girl he wanted to marry seven years ago? I’m not. Only difference is, he doesn’t know it and I do.”

She sighs, her eyes closing as she exhales. “Cooper,” she says softly, “You’re scared he’s going to change his mind?”

Am I?

“I don’t know what I am. But would it be so wrong to be nervous? Cautious? He showed up seven years after I lost him. When I finally moved on. Finally accepted that I’d never get him back. Never have a chance to live a life I dreamed of. And I was finally okay with it.” I pause to take a breath but Cammie cuts in before I can continue on my train of thought.

“Are you saying you wish he hadn’t shown up?” She frowns, disbelief and disgust mingling on her face. “Why is it so fucking hard for you to be comfortable with more than just the blah standards of life? And even if you can’t find enough self-worth buried beneath all that self-loathing to welcome this fate-filled gift being dropped in your lap, don’t you at least think enough of Reed to let him have it?”

“Of course, I want him to have it. Damn it, Cammie – I want myself to have it most of all. I know I deserve a happy ever after. I do. But I’m not exactly used to getting them, am I?! So excuse me if I need a minute to set my heart at ease and be sure this is here to stay, thathe’shere to stay, before I give up every ounce of worry and second thoughts about what may or may not go wrong here the instant I allow myself to feel safe or vulnerable.”

---