“I should have, I know. I’ve been stressed lately, about the party, about the— Anyway, that’s not a good excuse.” He paused, then spoke again. “Remember back in high school?”
A warm shiver ran down her back. “Um, what specifically about high school?”
“After the party when we met up in the library for tutoring.” He angled his body until he was facing her. “I asked you then if we were friends. We’re still friends now, right?”
TheFword again. Truth be told, he was a friend. He’d taken care of her when she was drunk and hadn’t taken advantage of her. He wasn’t judging her now, and he’d apologized for what he’d said to her. He wasn’t only a friend, but a good friend. And she realized in that moment that she wanted his friendship. Her attraction to him was still present, but it would eventually fade. Again. Having him in her life as a friend was better than not having him in her life at all.
He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. “Yes,” she said, surprisingly content. “We’re friends.”
“Good.” He sat back against the couch, the tension in his face disappearing.
And because everything was going right between them, she had to ask, “How’s Heather?”Ugh.I can’t leave well enough alone, can I?
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her since she came to the diner.”
“Didn’t you go out with her after work?”
“I checked her car engine after work,” he said. “Then I told her...”
“Told her what?”
“That I wasn’t interested in her,” he said quickly. “And then I blocked her on my phone.”
That was a surprise. “Really?”
“Really. I followed your advice and told her the truth.” He glanced away, then looked at her again. “When she and I were dating, she wasn’t so, um, so—”
“Misguided?”
“That’s a good way to put it. I’m kind of glad she showed up, though, because it reminded me why we didn’t work out in the first place.”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked.
“She’s totallynotmy type.”
Anita grinned.
“Lunch is ready.” His mother burst into the room, her grin still on her face. “I hope you like egg salad.”
“I do.”
“Good. There’s also some fresh veggies, dip, and fruit. And Tanner made some brownies the other day that are to die for.”
“That’s no surprise.” Anita turned to him, catching his smile and smiling back, the exchange feeling natural instead of awkward.
Half an hour later, after finishing a tasty lunch, Anita dug into a thick, chewy brownie. Little Debbie had nothingon Tanner’s baking skills. “You’re right, Mrs. Castillo,” she said, resisting the urge to shove the whole thing in her mouth. “These are incredible.”
“Call me Rosa.” Tanner’s mother took a large bite of her own brownie.
Anita was in the habit of calling elders by their surnames, not only because southern manners had been driven into her and her siblings by their mother but because she liked to show respect. But their lunch had been so comfortable now that she and Tanner were on an even keel that she didn’t hesitate to agree. “I will, Rosa.”
Rosa beamed. At first glance, Anita hadn’t thought Tanner resembled his mother, but now she could see that he had her wonderful smile.
“Do you need anything else?” Rosa got up and started to clear the dishes.
“I’ll take care of them, Mom.” Tanner put his hand on her forearm. “It’s your turn to relax.”
“But—”
