I’d do it all again with him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Remi
Lifewasfunny.Afew weeks ago, I wouldn’t have believed there was a possibility of Alicia walking up to me with her cheeks flushed from alcohol, and saying, “You’re sober, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you mind taking me home?I can ask Emmett, but it looks like he’s having fun—”
“No,” I interrupted with an eager break in my voice.“I’m ready to go.”
The pink of her cheeks deepened as a smile split across her face.Her amber eyes glinted.A gentle breeze could have knocked me over.I was a goner, and maybe she knew.And maybe she was gone with me.
I handed her my coat from the backseat of my SUV to drape backward across her shoulders while we waited for the engine to warm up enough to kick heat through the vents.She nuzzled it up to her chin.I gripped her headrest to look over my shoulder as I backed up.Within seconds we were on the dirt road that would lead us back to our place—places.
It was good to remind myself that I still didn’t know what she wanted from me.I couldn’t attach myself to her if this wasn’t what she wanted.My heart ached at the thought, but I’d survived the loss of us once.I could do it again.
“So, Hazel hates me,” she said, drawing me out of my thoughts.
I winced.“That was so fucking shitty of her.”
Alicia raised an eyebrow.“Doesn’t mean she didn’t have a point.”
“And what exactly would that point be?”I asked, my tone harsher than it should have been—I was angry at Hazel, not Alicia.
“That she has reason to be protective of you about me.”
“She refuses to acknowledge that I was an asshole to you too.”
She chewed on her lower lip, a crease formed between her brows.“You almost failed your exams?”
“I didn’t, though.This will probably shock you, but I didn’t handle our divorce well.”
“Yeah.”She turned to look out the window.“Me either.”
The conversation went dry, while my thoughts were preoccupied by a future where she’d fit me into her life.It at once felt insurmountable to pass this distance our divorce created, and at the same time, she was so close to me.I knew her.It was so easy to fall into these conversations, because we fit.I just didn’t know if that was enough for her.
“Can we listen to something?”she asked, breaking the silence again.
I grabbed my phone off its dashboard mount and handed it to her.“Sure, the passcode is my birthday.”
“Oh, free access to your phone, how very brave of you.”She punched the four digits without hesitation.
“I don’t think there’s anything exciting in there that you haven’t seen before.”
“You keep your own nudes?”
“Sometimes it’s hard to get the angles right,” I admitted.
She snorted.“So true.”
Imagining her sending me nudes had me trying to discretely shift the fit of my pants.Damn sweats left nothing to the imagination.
She put my phone back on the mount, the beginning chords of Sufjan Stevens’Illinoisalbum began playing through the speakers.“What about the ones that are sent to you?”
My cheeks warmed.“I don’t keep them.It feels wrong if we’re not in a relationship.”
