Country twirled the ice in his glass. "They called you that?"
"Oh, c'mon. It's not really a surprise. The guy I was dating was golfing with the big guns, and people weren't going to start rumours of why I was with him?"
"Did he stand up for you?" Country asked. Jenna shot him a look, and Country’s eyes hardened. "Who was it?"
Jenna stared harder at the miniature pool of crimson in the glass in front of her. "Doesn't matter."
"I know all the sportscasters in Toronto and the surrounding area. I want to know who this douchebag was."
She set her glass on the table. Everybody was familiar with this particular sportscaster. "It’s not a big deal, Gentry." He gave her a look that said, then why haven't you told me already? Damn it. He was the worst. "Carson Hart," she mumbled into her glass.
"What?"
Jenna took another sip then looked up. At this rate, she was going to finish her glass in approximately three minutes. "It was Carson Hart." The T on the end of his name snapped in the air between them.
The look on Country's face was priceless. First, the shock of recognition. Then the confusion and disbelief, and then—there it was. The disgust. She didn't enjoy telling this story, but at least that part was validating.
Country cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink. "So blonde hair and blue eyes is your type now?"
Jenna barked a laugh. "That's what you took from all that?"
"I mean, his hair is platinum. There's no way that's natural. Did the carpet match the drapes?"
She didn't know if it was the consternation on Country's face or the pleasant haze in her head from the wine, but Jenna burst out laughing. If Country only knew that Carson had a love affair with manzillions. She picked up her napkin to dab her eyes before the rest of her mascara dripped onto her cheeks. "Not a natural blonde. Good catch."
It felt so good to laugh, she almost didn’t want to stop. Until her cheeks ached and her stomach threatened to fold in on itself. When her diaphragm finally stopped spasming, she asked Country about coming back to the ranch. He asked her about her time at Globespan post-Hart and why she'd taken the job at GCBN. They went back and forth until Jenna looked down at her phone and saw the time. It was nearly three in the morning.
She took a sip of San Pelligrino, grateful she'd switched to that after her second glass of the Cabernet. Her body was warm, but the buzz would fade soon, which meant she'd be fine to drive home as long as she could convince her eyes to stay open. "What are you doing, Gentry?" she asked, mirroring his question back at the studio.
He looked up, his eyes warm and liquid. "I was thinking of ordering a cup of coffee."
Jenna pressed her hands into the cushion of the chair. She wanted to sink into it and close her eyes. "You know that's not what I'm asking."
Country nodded, then levelled his gaze at her. He twirled his stout glass with his thumb and forefinger. "I want to be friends."
"Friends."
"That's right."
"Why?" It was an honest question. Country had his hockey team. He had his brother. He had over three hundred thousand TikTok followers. Clearly he didn't find it difficult to win people over. He didn’t need to befriend an ex-girlfriend who had stomped all over his heart and walked away from the wreckage.
"Because you were my best friend for four years, Jens. I miss it."
His words sank into her like a putty knife in wet plaster. Jenna scrambled for any response that didn’t involve a whimper, and words rushed out of her mouth. "Gentry, we were only friends for a year of that. The other three we were together." Too close. She was prodding the edges of that wound, and it was already starting to sting.
"The fact that we were having sex doesn't mean you weren't still my best—" Jenna shushed him, and Country laughed. "You think anyone in this bar cares whether we used to have sex?"
"No, I care if they know we used to have sex." False. She cared that she knew they used to have sex because now that they were talking about it, parts of her were lighting up that shouldn't have been when it was three in the morning and she was sitting across from him lightly buzzed. "I don't even think men and women can be best friends without . . . you know."
"Having sex?"
"Can you please?" she hissed, glancing at the table next to her.
Country's grin widened as he leaned over the table. He was enjoying this. "We'll address your acquired prudishness later, but are you quoting When Harry Met Sally?"
"Not quoting it, but yes, they do talk about it in the movie." Jenna arranged her fork and knife on her napkin. They'd watched that movie together in Country’s basement with Anne and whatever guy she'd been dating. They had to have been nineteen, maybe twenty. Did Country remember that?
Country narrowed his eyes. "So because two fictional characters couldn't be just friends, you don't think we can be?"
