Page 21 of The Naughty List

“No buts,” she says, cutting me off. “Take it as a blessing. Use this time to celebrate and reconnect with old friends. Hmm, I don’t know. Perhaps enjoy yourself for once. This might just be the break you need before starting your own business, and instead of writing all those to-do lists, maybe you need to be working on a who-to-do list.”

My eyes bulge out of my head. “You’re insane,” I tell her. “Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, this is Blushing. There’s no one to do around here.”

Rena grins wide. “You need a naughty list,” she continues, scooping up her laptop off the bathroom vanity and walking into her designer kitchen. She grabs a slip of paper and disappears from the screen before returning a second later, holding up the paper that now reads “The Naughty List” and in big bold letters right below it is one all too familiar name.

Nick Stone.

I shake my head before the words even get a chance to tumble out of my mouth. “Okay, did you accidentally hit your head this morning? Are you feeling alright? Because there’s no way in hell I’m about to sleep with Nick.”

“Come on,” she groans. “You always said Nick was the best sex you ever had, and not to mention, from the slight online stalking I’ve been doing, he’s fine as hell. Besides, what are vacations for? Reconnect with the guy, have a few drinks, and screw him for old times’ sake. It doesn’t need to mean anything, and it’s not like I’m asking you to fall in love with him. Just have fun. Have wild, kinky, sweaty sex, and then come home in the new year ready to kill it with this new business.”

“You are literally insane. You know that, right?”

“Prude.”

“I am not.”

“PRUDE!” she says louder before whipping around and shoving “The Naughty List” against her stainless-steel fridge, using every single magnet she owns to keep it in place. She grabs a pen, and just to be an ass, she draws a little box right next to Nick’s name, just waiting to be checked off. “There. That looks better.”

“You need to take that down.”

Rena looks back over her shoulder, grinning at me through her screen. “And remove a to-do list before all the tasks on said list have been completed?” she gasps, mimicking the bullshit I’ve spouted at her over the years. “I would never.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Rena laughs. “An asshole? I’m just doing my duty as your best friend and looking out for you and your sad little underused coochy. Now, if I really wanted to be an asshole, I’d take a photo of your new naughty list and accidentally send it to Nick on all of his socials, and if he just happened to miss that, then don’t be surprised if you happen to see a plane flying across Blushing with a banner hanging from the bottom sayingHey Blair, don’t forget to fuck Nick.”

“You’re seriously messed up. You know that, right?”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Airy-Blairy. Though, come to think of it, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. From the looks of it, Nick doesn’t use his socials. None of them look like they’ve even been touched in years.”

A grin pulls at the corner of my lips. “That’s Nick for you,” I tell her. “He’s always hated social media. I made those accounts for him before I left for college, but I don’t think he ever really used them apart from the occasional post here and there. He’s more of the here-and-now type. He doesn’t like living through a screen.”

“Makes sense,” she says. “Have you had a chance to say hi yet?” I scrunch my face, and she instantly picks up on my hesitation. “What did you do?” Rena questions, her tone shifting with a deep suspicion.

“I uhhh . . . almost ran into him this morning.”

“Almost? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was in the coffee house, and as I looked out the window, he was just kinda there staring back at me.”

Rena leans in closer to the screen, her gaze narrowing on mine. “And?” she prompts.

“And it wasn’t my finest moment. I panicked,” I tell her, feeling that same anxiety I felt this morning creeping up over me. “I dove over the counter and hid. It was humiliating.”

“Oh shit,” Rena booms. “I would have paid to see that.”

“You have no idea just how glad I am that you weren’t here to see it,” I mutter. “But I feel like shit. The dude behind the counter said he shook his head and looked disappointed and it just . . . I don’t know. It made me feel terrible. After all these years and the hurt I caused him, I didn’t even have the courage to smile and wave or say thank you for plowing my driveway. I wasn’t . . . ready.”

Rena offers me a sad smile, and because she’s been my best friend for so long, I know she’s about to give me the kind of advice that’s going to hit me right in the feels. “Girl, he was your first love, and despite how you say you’ve moved on and built your life here in New York, you’ll always be ridiculously in love with him. I see it in your eyes every time his name comes up. He’s the one who got away, and now that you’re back home, you have a chance to make things right.”

“I’m not in love with him,” I say in a small voice, knowing damn well I’m lying.

Rena scoffs. “Really? You’re going to hit me with that shit?”

Letting out a sigh, I drop my gaze, unable to meet her stare. “I’m scared, Rena.”

“I know you are,” she tells me. “But what are you actually scared of? Facing the hurt you caused him and dealing with the guilt that comes along with that, or are you scared that he doesn’t love you anymore?”

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