They’d run into one another twice since Logan had left, and both times were so excruciating that she had heavily considered going back home and telling Sara that their twenty years of friendship had been great, but she was simply going to pass away.
Seeing him in the doorway, his dark curls still wet from the shower, was no different.
“Arizona.”
“Hey,” she murmured.
“You look like you’re dreading this as much as I am.”
“I’m not dreading seeing you,” she whispered, all too aware that Sara was clinging to every errant phrase she could catch from the living room. “I’m dreading seeing Logan. But you, I know you’ll at least be nice.”
“Have you talked to him?”
She laughed. “What do you think?”
Milo sighed and folded his arms. “He sent me some choice words a few days ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Milo. I figured with Sloane, he’d gotten over whatever feelings he had for me. I don’t know, it was all really confusing. I hate that I made things weird for you guys. I never wanted to come between friends.”
Milo’s lips fell into an odd twist. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that one.”
“Hanna!” Matty called from downstairs. “Did you print a boarding pass?”
She leaned out of her room. “Oh shit, is this flight leaving from the nineteen hundreds?”
That got a laugh out of Milo, a sound that tore a hole in her chest.
Matty called back, “What if your phone dies?”
“I’ll use yours. You packed, what, three extended batteries for a two-hour flight?”
Matty mumbled something, and Sara shushed him.
“Airport Dad is anxious,” Milo said.
“Airport Dad is not confident in his best man, groomsman, or maid of honor’s abilities to be cool, baby.” She shot finger guns at him and he dramatically brought his hands to his chest, throwing his head back with each hit.
He leaned against the doorframe. “We’re cool! We’re so cool. I just saw all the slutty underwear you’re packing and I’m barely thinking about the way your breath hitches in my ear when you?—”
Matty yelled again, “What about your ID? Do you have it in an easily accessible pocket?”
“Yep!” she yelled back, turning to Milo. “Is this what you want, Milo? To go back to the dirty-talking and teasing?”
He dropped his eyes to hers, pushing her back against the wall.
“It’s easier for me to be a sleazy jackass, Arizona. Hurts less than being real. But I can shut it down.”
She pressed her lips together. She could understand that. And frankly, get behind it.
“I suppose I do miss your bullshit.”
“Great! And if I push it too far, just tell me to go fuck myself.”
She crawled her hand over his chest, slapping him gently on the cheek as she rolled her carry-on by him.
“And you would, like the good little boy you are.”
Milo glared, took her suitcase, and hauled it over his shoulder.
