“Are you swinging by the bar later today?” I asked, my voice slightly muffled from my mouth being smooshed against his chest.
“Planning on it.”
“K, I’ll see you then.”
But still, he held me.
“Yeah, sounds good,” he agreed.
But still, he held me.
One hand was wrapped tightly around my lower back. The other splayed across the center of my back. In his protective embrace, I felt cared for, protected, seen, and loved. In his arms, I felt right.
And by the reluctant way he pulled away, I wondered if he did too. We might not be the future I had wanted when I was younger, but we were somehow something better. Even as friends.
As a teen, all I had pictured was marriage and a family and alllll the hot sex. Ahem.
But this connection we shared, this close friendship... this willingness to make up after we bickered, and hug each other tightly, and show up for each other day after day after day... was so much better than any childhood fantasy.
He was so much better than the 2D make-believe version I’d fallen head over heels for. He was here, in my life, in full, living color. Always showing up for me. Always taking care of me. Always a literal shoulder to lean on.
And even if it was hard to feel good about how our one kiss had ended, I felt good about our ride-or-die friendship. And the way I knew he would always show up for me. No matter what.
Eventually, he stepped back, and I was immediately cold and miserable. But that was the way of life. Good things, especially good hugs, couldn’t last forever.
His eyes searched until they caught mine in a tender gaze that made that abandoned butterfly flap rusty wings. “Sunday?”
His question made no rational sense, so my reply was an eloquent, “Huh?”
“For moreWitcher?”
His eagerness to hang out again made me smile. “You made plans with Will, remember?”
His shoulders lifted with his sigh. “Not solid plans. Come on, I’m invested in the show. And your couch.”
I laughed. “You have an unhealthy obsession. With both.”
He shot me a crooked smile. “I feel like it’s a pretty healthy obsession. And I’m fine with both.”
Regret churned in my gut, but for no logical reason. We were besties, but Jonah and I didn’t need to spend every living moment together. “Sorry, I already made plans with Claire.”
“Claire?” he demanded, outraged. “Over me?”
“You have plans with Will!”
He snorted. “I can’t believe you’re ditching me for Claire.”
I laughed again. “I’m not ditching you for anyone. I heard you make plans with Will. And you know how sensitive he can be. If you abandon him now, he’ll never let you forget it.”
“Fine, but I still thought you were going to hang out with us. I didn’t know you would go behind our backs and make other plans.”
What was this? Since when did Jonah assume I would always hang out with my brother and him? Was this about Lola? She wasn’t going to be back by Sunday. “You’re crazy,” I told him lovingly. “Completely crazy.”
“Claire is so boring,” he whined playfully.
She was serious by nature. But once you dug beneath her OCD exterior, she was actually hilarious and adventurous. I mean, not many people could just up and abandon their job as a kindergarten teacher like she had and forge a new future as a pastry chef. That took some serious grit. She had a high standard of excellence and an even higher standard of perfection for herself. And Jonah truly didn't get her. “Well, it’s just one night. Somehow we’ll survive without each other.”
His look said he wasn’t so sure. My heart felt all warm and squishy again. “Fine, one night.” He walked over to the edge of my counter and picked up his keys. “Have fun with second place.”
