“So, uh, we’ll have to get pretty friendly, if we’re all going to fit. Betty doesn’t share her spot.”
Colt walks around the side of his truck and climbs into the driver’s seat, and Blair’s staring at me. The moon’s reflected in her doe eyes, and she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. It’s nice to see her like this—dressed in jeans and a simple T-shirt, looking a lot like the way I remember her.
“I guess I’ll sit on your lap?”
“Guess so.” I try my best to hide my excitement, slipping onto the seat and taking a deep breath of night air and diesel fumes, waiting for her to settle onto my lap and shut the truck door.
“Hi, baby,” she coos, reaching out to give Betty a scratch behind the ear. And even though it wasn’t directed at me, Blair saying that word makes me desperate to hear her call me “baby” again.
When the truck dips into a pothole, Blair’s back presses firmly into my chest. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around her waist in a makeshift seat belt, holding her warm body to mine. And I can smell her—fuck,the same spicy perfume I caughtwhiffs of at her house, and a clean shampoo scent as her hair brushes my cheek.
“You good?” I mutter, my free hand clutching the edge of the seat for dear life. Fighting like hell to stop myself from rubbing her thigh.
“Great,” she says under her breath.
We turn onto the main road, and she rolls her hips slightly, sending a rush of blood to my cock.Not the time,I remind myself. This isn’t a flirty ride home before a one-night stand.
Colt careens the truck around a corner, a little faster than I would’ve taken it, and Blair’s hand clutches mine against her stomach. Body heat permeates through her thin shirt fabric and I can feel her racing pulse. She relaxes into me, letting our fingers subtly interlace in the dark of the pickup truck barreling down the side streets toward Blair’s home. I need to know if she feels the same spark between us.
There’s nothing to lose.
My free hand slides across the upholstered seat and up my denim-clad thigh before resting on the side of her leg. Drawing slow circles, I take notice of how her breathing pattern changes when I touch her.
When I slip to the top of her leg, fingertips toying with the inner seam of her jeans, cautiously moving up the length of her inner thigh, I almost become completely feral. Because Blair’s breath stops altogether, and her knees fall away from each other. Melting under my touch the way she always has. Her grip on my hand tightens, and there’s no way she doesn’t feel my chest thundering against her back.
Then we pull into her driveway, and she straightens up, swiftly pulling her hand away from mine. The harsh roof lights temporarily blind me when Blair opens the truck door and hops out. And I’m hot on her heels, walking up to the front steps.
“Thank you for coercing me into going out tonight.” Sheunlocks the door with the slow turn of a key, and it swings open. “It was fun.”
“Does that mean I can do it again?”
“Denver.” She exhales hard. “I told you already—I can’t do this with you.”
“Can’t do what?” I step toward her and she doesn’t move back, letting the air between us become electric.
I glance at her full lips, and can’t help but wonder if she tastes the way she used to, if her naked body feels the same against mine, if she sounds the same when she’s coming.
“Can’t pick back up where we left off. Even if things hadn’t ended the way they did, I didn’t come back here for this.” She gestures to the invisible tether between us. “For whatever happened in the truck tonight, or for whatever you think is happening now.”
“Of course not. But would it be so bad to hang out with your ‘childhood friend’ again?”
A childhood friend who crawled across her bed to bury my face between her legs hundreds of times. A childhood friend who begged her to marry me. Having her reduce our relationship to that felt like a slug to the chest, but I’m clearly not above throwing it back in her face as a way of convincing her to spend time together.
“I missed my best friend.” I let one small truth sneak out of my lips. I missed her more than she’ll ever know. “We can be friends and nothing more. Can’t we, Blair?”
“Yeah…” The corner of her mouth quirks. “I guess we can.”
I chance another step toward her, until there’s only the wooden door frame acting as an invisible barrier. The singular thing keeping up this charade about being friends. Then I lean against the frame with a smug smile, reveling in the way her eyes are so clearly tearing my clothes off. She’s never been good at hiding her emotions—not from me.
She should’ve closed the door in my face by now, butinstead she stands quietly, eyes locked on mine, chest rising and falling with slow breaths. And, because I know her cues intimately, I know she’s thinking about kissing me. Her tongue darts across her bottom lip, and her body sways a little closer.
My name leaves her lips in a whispered plea. And I reach up to brush her hair behind her ear, ready to give everything up for the taste of her. I don’t care that she doesn’t want to live here. That she doesn’t want me. That we didn’t work out when we were younger.
I’ve never stopped loving Blair. Now I know for certain that I never will. I wish I didn’t have to go the last fourteen years without her, left only with a toxic habit of constantly reliving every moment we shared. Begging the universe to turn back time so I could have her back.
Finally she’s home, and I refuse to lose her again. So I rest my forehead against hers, combing my fingers through her wavy brown hair. Breathing her in. And she does the same—embracing the connection we’ve gone so long without.
“Blair? Is that you?” her dad calls out from the hallway. Heavy footsteps move toward us, and Blair frantically backs away.
