Page 209 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“If you’d told me this a week ago, or even yesterday, I would’ve punched you in the face.”
He chuckles, a smile pulling his lips. “I don’t doubt it.”
There’s a pause. For a split second, it feels like nothing else matters—the past, the pain, the years. Everything is suspended.
“So, what are we supposed to do now?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“We really screwed things up.” I smile at him, releasing him of all the blame. “You with your guilt and me spreading quite wild fetishes.”
He gives a half-smile, the kind that’s both apologetic and genuine. “I reckon we did.”
“We could start over.” He leans back. “We could figure out what it’s like to be friends again.”
“You want to creepily follow me around, hanging out in all my favorite places, talking about football plays, and chewing food louder than any person I’ve ever met?”
He laughs, and the sound strikes a fire inside me.
“I do not chew loudly.”
“You chew so loud.”
There’s another silence between us, and it’s perfect for us.
“Friends?” I say, pretending to ponder the idea.
He nods.
I smile. “I like that idea.”
He hugs me again and doesn’t let go. “You know what friends do?” he asks into my hair.
“What do friends do?” I let myself enjoy the smell of him.
“They finish bucket lists together.”
I laugh.
He leans back, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You want to tackle that list with me today?”
“Like now?”
“All day. Me and you.”
“We have a booth to go to.”
His lips quirk upward. “I think we have a bucket list item that will help us get out of working. Remember page five?”
“Page five?”
He does know them by heart.
He nods. “Yes. Let’s do page five.”
What is page five?
35: HUG CIRCLE
