Page 205 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“I believe it.” The denim of my pants is rough against my cheek. “I see the ways you’ve changed. You no longer steal the spotlight. You quietly watch from the sidelines.”
He presses his lips together with a short nod. “I reckon, you weren’t the only one with a broken heart.”
“You’re going to blame a broken heart on this grumpy new side of you?” There I am, flirting again.
“Excuse me.” He presses a hand to his chest. “I am not grumpy.”
I laugh. “You’re so grumpy.”
He laughs too.
“How is it that it’s been over ten years, and sitting here with you feels like nothing’s changed and we’re right back to eating licorice and writing the book of our dreams?” A breeze rustles my hair.
“I don’t know, but I miss this.” His stare is intense, and my pulse races. “I miss us.”
The words destroy me. Destroy this moment.
I break eye contact and look straight ahead, taking a deep breath. “What is whatever this is you’re doing?”
He stretches his arms in front of him, setting his hat on his lap. “I don’t know.”
“Right. That about sums us up.” I go to stand, and he places his hand on my arm.
His touch is light, but the sensation is heavy. My pulse picks up, and I try to ignore the way my skin tingles.
“If I could go back and change how I left things between us, I would,’ he says.
“What does that even mean?”
“I would tell you, it wasn’t your fault.” His hand stays on me, and I feel every beat of my heart in that touch. “I’d clarify that you weren’t a win on my scoreboard. And I’d tell you that you meant so much more to me than that one night.”
I want to tell him he has a funny way of showing it. I want to snap back at each sentence, but I don’t, because more than defending my pain, I want to know the truth.
“What are you saying? You realized I was a better friend than a love interest?”
“No.”
“No?”
It takes a moment for his husky reply. “I don’t know the right answer here.”
“The truth, which seems very hard for you.” I stretch out my legs, breaking the contact between us as I lean back, sinking my palms into the grass.
He mimics my move. “It was so complicated and I was so young.”
“You’re not young anymore, and nothing you can say can be worse than what I’ve played in my head.”
“I loved you, Jade.”
Not what I expected, or did I? After last night, that’s exactly what I saw.
The words hang in the air.
My heart skips a beat, and then stumbles, as I search for something to say. But I fail, because what am I supposed to say?
“I was this stupid young kid who fell head over heels for this girl I didn’t realize I could never have.”
It takes me a second. “The feud?” I ask.
