He took a sip of his coffee. “I’ve decided to go to the University of Maryland for grad school. I just accepted their offer last week,” he said.
I dropped the course catalogue onto the table and looked at my friend. “What happened to staying at LU for your master’s?” I asked.
Brooks took another sip of his coffee and looked at me, his eyes meeting mine. “I would be staying for all the wrong reasons. I think you were right when you said it’d be good to get away.”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach as my guilt flared viciously.
I had treated Brooks Hamlin unfairly. He had been nothing but supportive and a true friend, and I had used him. Emotionally manipulated him. Then cast him aside when Maxx reentered my life.
I didn’t like myself very much in that instant. Not at all.
“I know what you’re doing over there,” Brooks said, breaking me out of my self-loathing.
“Oh yeah? And what is that?” I asked tightly.
“You think this is about you and what I told you. That’s pretty narcissistic of you, don’t you think?” he teased good-naturedly.
“But you seemed so sure about staying on at LU,” I countered.
“Yeah, and maybe I was hedging for something to happen between us. I love you, Aubrey, that hasn’t changed. But it wasn’t cool of me to put that on you when I knew you didn’t feel the same way.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “I led you on, Brooks—”
“And I knew why you were doing it. I knew you were in love with Maxx and nothing had changed. Even though I can’t really stand the guy and think you can do so much better, that’s where your heart is. I can’t force you to feel something for me that isn’t there. And to put that pressure on you wasn’t right.”
I reached across the table and grabbed ahold of his hand, squeezing it. “You are such a great guy, Brooks. You’re one of my best friends, and I really hope that never changes, no matter where we end up. Because this—” I squeezed his hand a little harder. “This is the kind of friendship that lasts a lifetime.”
Brooks squeezed back. “I know. I hope you realize that I only want the best for you. And even if I don’t entirely understand why, you seem to think it’s Maxx. And I have to be okay with that. I have to trust you to make the right choices for yourself and stop treating you like you’re incapable of making your own decisions.”
Trust.
There was that word again. It seemed that everyone was having trouble embracing it.
“I appreciate it, Brooks, I really do.”
We smiled at each other in that easy, familiar way of ours, and then Brooks grabbed the course catalogue and flipped through it.
“There are some great classes in here. What’s the track you’ve decided on?” he asked, changing the subject.
I let him steer our conversation into territory where we felt the most comfortable, and I knew that it would take some time and maybe some distance, but we’d be okay.
chapter
thirty-four
aubrey
it was Saturday evening and Renee and I were walking back from the campus library. Maxx was spending time with Landon again, so Renee had asked if I wanted to keep her company while she finished up a project for her marketing class that was due on Monday.
“We’re such wild and crazy chicks. Hanging at the library on a Saturday night,” I laughed, slinging my coat over my shoulders. We were marching into the first week of May, the end of school just around the corner, and it was finally warm enough to walk around at night without a jacket.
I loved the summer. It was my favorite time of year. I planned to suggest to Maxx that we go down and stay with my parents for a few weeks after school let out. Marshall Creek was only an hour’s drive from the Outer Banks. I wanted to have the time with Maxx to really unwind and relax after how stressful the last few months had been.
My parents and I were in regular contact since I had been to see them, and while things were still awkward at times, we were getting there.
“I can’t wait until summer,” I said.
“Me neither. My parents asked me to come home for a few weeks. I’m really thinking of taking them up on the offer.” Renee picked up her book bag and followed me out the door.
