Page 86 of Summertime Friends

“Remember this friend thing between us? It requires talking to me. Did I do something?”

“Didn’t say that.”

“You are acting like it.”

We’ve caught Callum’s attention. He’s staring at us from his spot on the other end of the table.

“Cal said you two had lunch,” Liam says quietly. We lower our voices to keep the conversation between us.

“We did yesterday.” I keep trying to make eye contact with him, but now he’s choosing to avoid mine. “Only to catch up.”

“Like you did that summer?” His tone has a bite of jealousy—or is he hurt about us getting lunch?

I glance at Cal, who is still staring down at us two. My face falters. Did he tell Liam? He promised me he wouldn’t.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I lie. I know exactly what he’s talking about. The year after that dreaded summer in London, I returned to London for work. It took the entire four days I was there to work up the courage to talk to Liam. In my mind, showing up at his favorite café where he gets coffee every Thursday morning was a bright idea, as opposed to texting or calling to say, ‘Hey, I’m in London.’

I approached the café when I saw him sitting outside with someone else, a female someone else. I turned around, hurt that he had moved on. I already had plans to get lunch with Callum later that day. I tried to bail, but he wouldn’t let me. Callum and I remained friends but set the rule that day that we wouldn’t talk about Liam.

“You do, States. I saw you two,” he whisper yells. Saw us? Shit, he probably felt as I did.

“I was there for work, and we are friends.” I shake my head at him, pleading with him to believe the truth.

“Right, just friends. That’s why you reacted the way you did at dinner last week at the idea of you two going on a date. Maybe Nat should set the two of you up.”

My mouth drops.

“Why are you acting this way?” I ask, disappointed in his hurt behavior.

He shoos me off. That’s fine; if that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

“You know what, maybe she should. I did always think that he was more attractive and a better man. Somehow, I got stuck with. . .you.”

Any ounce of emotion on his face disappears. His eyes flare and darken, not in the dark color that he gets when he’s craving to beinside of me, but in a shade of hurt that I’ve only ever seen once before.

Why, Emerson? Why did you have to say that?

Shaking his head, Liam goes to say something but is cut off by the waitress standing at the head of the wooden table, ready to take our orders.

“Want to split the Honey Boo Boo? Or Burrata Be Kidding Me?” Natalie asks Liam. “We could get both if you join us, Emme,” she eyes me.

“Sounds good.” I nod.

“A pizza love triangle. Love it!” She shakes her shoulders and then turns to the waiter, giving her our order.

I watch Natalie. Liam is watching me. A love triangle this sure is.

I excuse myself to the restroom.

Chloe touches my arms as I get up. Leaning back, she looks up at me and asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah. . . yeah, need to pee.”

She straightens out, jumping back into conversation.

***

---