Page 10 of When We Were Younger

A green-eyed monster of jealousy tries to claw its way out of my gut when the passing thought runs through my brain that he probably has someone else to braid his hair now. I quickly tamp it down, squish it like a bug under my shoe, and go back to being annoyed at his sarcasm.

"Yes, Stephen," I say with a proverbial stomp of my foot, "my very important work has kept me extremely busy. So busy, in fact, that I've barely even thoughtabout Fox Hole or its residents in years. But I'm here now. Is that going to be a problem?"

He smirks down at me, and I just know that he knows I'm full of shit. He's always been able to read me like a magazine. His tongue peeks out between his lips, running a quick swipe over them before he smacks them together.

"Nope. Not a problem at all, Dorothea. In fact, I'm just surprised you'd leave California at all. How ever will the Malibu cliffs stay put if you're not there holding them up?"

I roll my eyes, but I can't help the snort that escapes me at the image of me holding up the cliff sides, Atlas style, dressed head to toe in Lululemon. My less-than-ladylike sound garners a snicker from him and before I know it, we're belly laughing right there in the wine aisle. The dog even seems to join in, wagging her tail and jumping up, placing her front paws on Stephen's stomach with a happy bark.

"I, uh. Yeah," I mumble as my laugh simmers down. "I don't know. Kira asked me to come back with her for the holidays, and I said yes. I'm staying with her and her family up on McKenna Mountain."

"Makes sense. I figured that's where you'd stay if you ever came back. I was home for dinner. At my parent's house, I mean. Not my home. I don't live with them anymore. I moved into town a while back. I'm just here to grab the wine my mom forgot for her picatta," he says, reaching behind me to grab a bottle from the shelf. The motion brings him close, his armbrushing over my shoulder as he goes, and I visibly shiver.

Stephen, to his credit, pretends not to notice.

"Right. I'm on a similar mission. Vodka," I say, holding the bottle of Tito's up between us.

"For the Cosmos," he smiles, and I smile right back. The McKenna Cosmopolitans are legendary, but even still, it feels special that Stephen knew instantly what the liquor was for. Whether it's a memory from childhood or if he's been up to the mountain for Cosmos since I left, I suppose I'll never know.

We look at each other for a beat longer than what feels normal. His gaze holds mine, those green eyes like two lasers turning my insides molten and mushy. I feel my knees start to quake, literally go weak, like I'm some lovestruck heroine in the romance books Georgie writes. My breath grows labored, and my lips start to feel dry. Neither of us is moving, but somehow, we're getting closer, like an impossibly patient and meticulous marionette is manipulating our strings, pulling us millimeter by millimeter. His eyes drop to my mouth and my breath catches.

The bell over the top of the front door rings, breaking the spell. I jump back, even though I hadn't moved my feet. Stephen clears his throat.

"I'd better get this back to Mom," he says, moving the bottle of wine back and forth between his hands.

"Yeah," I say, nodding my head like an idiot. "Yeah, same. I gotta get back up McKenna Mountain. Dean is on his way, and if I don't hurry-"

"There will be no food left for you when you get there," he finishes for me.

"Exactly," I say, and we awkwardly make our way to the register together in silence. He lets me pay first, and as soon as Mrs. Johnson slips my vodka into a brown paper bag, I grab it and turn towards the door. I'm stopped by a large hand softly cupping my shoulder.

"Maybe I can see you again while you're in town? Grab a coffee or a shot of tequila or something?" Stephen asks over my shoulder.

"Sure," I say, glancing back at him. "I'll text you, let me just-" I stick my hand in my pocket, looking for my phone, but Stephen shakes his head.

"Number never changed, sweetheart," he whispers. I don't have it saved in my phone anymore, but we both know that I could still dial those ten digits in my sleep.

I give him a soft, half smile and slink towards the door. As soon as I pull into the McKenna's driveway, I twist the cap off the bottle of vodka and take a swig, gagging at the burn.

This winter is going to last for-fucking-ever.

Pussy Posse Group Chat

Rachel

Hey, you two get in okay? You didn't text when you landed

Kira

We're sort of going through it over here

SOS. My head and my heart are already a mess

Rachel

Already? You've been in Tennessee for three hours. Isn't there some sort of grace period before you have a hometown emotional breakdown?

I saw him. Stephen. MY Stephen. Stephen Christopher Hudson. At the liquor store. AND he saw me. This is a nightmare.

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