Page 64 of When We Were Us
“Not unless you call making out behind the bar a fight,” I blurt before I lose my nerve.
Her jaw drops wide and so do her eyes. It's a minute before she recovers enough to speak.
“Holy shit, Wren! I was totally joking!” She fumbles her donut, catching it just in time before it hits the couch. She opens a napkin, sets it on the coffee table, and plops her donut on top.
She turns back to me with wide, hopeful eyes and whisper-shouts, “Are you guys, like, back together?”
“Noooo,” I say a little too quickly.
She cocks her head to the side, doubt etching her face. “Why do you say it like that? It’s not completely outside the realm of possibility.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Well, then tell me what itislike,” she presses, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. I grab a pillow and smack her with it. “Was it amazing? I bet it was amazing.”
I scrunch up my face and nod, letting my head fall back.
She lets out a delighted squeal, clapping her hands. “I knew it!”
“God, I can’t believe this is happening.” Pulling the sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my hands, I tuck my fists between my raised knees and look over at my friend.
She rolls her eyes at me and laughs. “What? You can’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”
My brows furrow and I pin her with a look.
“Don’t look at me like that. You and Hank are like, well…you and Hank,” she finishes with a shrug, eyes wide. “Like, duh.”
I let out an exasperated sigh and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “What does that even mean?”
“You guys are like, “it,” you know?” She throws a hand out, casting for words. “You’re like Brad and Angelina, Sonny and Cher, J.Lo and Ben Affleck.”
“You do realize you just named a bunch of couples whose relationships ended in, like, ugly-ass divorces, right?”
She waves her hand and rolls her eyes, completely unfazed. “Whatever. The point is, you guys are destined. Fated, meant to be—whatever you wanna call it. Everyone sees it. You were great together, once. You could be again.”
“Thatwas a long time ago.” I point a finger in her direction. “Hank and I are two very different people now, with very different lives. We don’t even live in the same state. It would never work. We’re not teenagers anymore, and that’s ancient history.”
“Is it?” She takes her time, sipping her coffee and watching me as she does. Then, she settles back against the cushions. “You two still have ridiculous chemistry.”
“That’s not the point.” I sip my own coffee. “It feels wrong starting something up with Hank.” I pause, thinking about the way his hands felt on my body, how they made my skin break out in goosebumps, and how every nerve ending came alive when he kissed me. I haven’t felt anything remotely like that in…years.
So, while I say the words, I realize it's a lie. Nothing about being with Hank feels wrong.
When Hank walked me to my car last night, he’d been quiet. He didn’t kiss me again, but he did open my door for me, even making sure my dress wasn’t in the way of it before closing it. He followed me to the split off on Chicory Lane to my place before flipping around and assumedly backtracking west out of downtown in the direction Finn had previously told me he lives.
“Why? Because he’s here and you might not be?”
“Well, for starters, yes. I mean…” I sigh and shake my head. “How would that even work?” I decide I need to talk this through, even if it is just so I can clearly hash out what I am feeling for Hank and get it out of my system. “And I just got out of a three-year relationship.”
She slowly nods. “Which, cheating aside, you’ve expressed was severely lacking.”
I’d already told her it had been months since Derek and I had been intimate. It was embarrassing to admit I very rarely even orgasmed with him. I usually had to finish myself off later, once he’d gone to shower or whatever. Sometimes, he couldn’t even finish himself. He blamed it on age and stress, but looking back, I should have seen the signs.
Pushing those thoughts away, I cringe and sigh. “Yes, but isn’t it too soon?”
“Ok, I get that you don’t want to jump straight into something. But, Wrenley, this is Hank. You guys have known each other for years. It’s not like he’s some random hookup.”
“I was engaged, Finn.” She tilts her head to the side as sympathy fills her eyes. “And let's not forget the tiny detail that I don’t even livehere.” It’s not even about what I think of that, it’s more about how Hank would feel about it. But if I’m not staying…why does that matter so much to me?
