The perfect lines of the white-and-gray tile are altered. Changed. Splattered like the scene of a crime.
Graceful fingers clench as if bracing for impact. A pair of wild, watery eyes find mine and blink.
I thought I had time to prepare for this moment. More time. Of course I knew it was a possibility—a probabilityeven—that I’d see him. Alabaster Falls is a small town. A tiny town. The kind of town where everyone knows everyone. I didn’t think I’d be able to avoid him completely. It was bound to happen. I knew it would, I just thought there’d be more time. I thought I’d be ready. More ready, given how long it’s been.
I’m not ready though.
And I’m sure as hell not prepared.
A familiar face swims into view. It’s a face I know well. The face of the only man I’ve ever loved. Or hated. He takes a step back, his head and neck jerking as if he’s walked into a solid surface and is reeling from the impact. His hands are raised now. Palms open, but not in surrender.
People around us stop moving. Mothers grab their children to stop them from stepping into the big mess between us. There’s a short pause. A lull. And then normality resumes. People start milling around again as if nothing happened.
Not us.
We don’t move.
We both stand frozen.
My chest caves and my heart stops beating. The words I manage to formulate are dry and cracked open. Foreign and familiar. They hang in the air between us as if they’re suspended by the past and the present.
“Hey, Romeo.”
He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have time to. My mortal enemy approaches at speed. Such speed, I don’t have time to react, to defend myself, or raise my guard. My enemy is slight, a slip of a person, a tiny thing with silky brown hair and large doe eyes. A sweet face and a bright smile.
Don’t let that fool you.
Her capacity to cause carnage is endless.
“Jude!” she cries, throwing her arms around me. “I can’t believe it! Oh my God, how long has it been?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Too long! It’s been too long. Way too long.” She fixes Romeo with a stern, chastising look. “And as for you, mister, why didn’t you tell me Jude was coming to town? You know I hate surprises.”
She steps aside, clearing a path between us, and looks at Romeo expectantly. He’s well-trained. A dutiful husband. A husband who knows his wife well and understands what she expects. I understand too. She expects us to embrace. It’s what good friends do when they haven’t seen each other for long periods of time, after all. It’s normal.
Romeo steps forward and wraps a single arm loosely around my shoulders, taking care not to touch me any more than he absolutely has to. The smell and feel of him slices through bone. There’s steel in his spine. He’s hard and cold, and he somehow manages to pull me toward himand push me away. I lean in even though I don’t mean to. In fact, I mean not to. I mean to hold back just as hard as he does, but he’s Romeo, and my spine is spaghetti, not steel. His cheek brushes lightly against mine as I embrace him. Sandpaper on skin. I wince from the impact and disentangle myself from him as fast as I can.
My heart beats like it’s under attack.
Romeo’s mouth tenses at the right corner and scoots to the side. One shoulder dips, hollowing his chest, and the other draws up high enough to form a shadow under his clavicle. It’s a sexy as fuck, nonchalant shrug that makes years of tears scream. Wind whips through bare branches, howling, as what happened between us years ago rushes toward me.
I’m confused. I look at him, then her, and then him again. Even though no one’s talking, we’re having an in-depth conversation in a language I don’t understand. It takes me a full five seconds to piece it together.
She doesn’t know.
Selby doesn’t know that Romeo and I don’t talk anymore. She has no idea there’s no such thing as Romeo and me anymore. We were best friends all our lives, and it’s been five years since we’ve said a word to each other, and his wife has no clue.
He hasn’t told her a goddamn thing.
I don’t know why that surprises me. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it does.
“Are you coming over for dinner tonight?” Selby swipes her fingers lightly across her forehead and shakes her head. “What am I thinking? Of course you’re coming over.”
“Jude’s had a long trip. He’s tired.” Romeo’s face is unperturbed, features relaxed. To the innocent bystander, he shows no sign of feeling anything untoward—or feeling anything at all, for that matter. There’s a very slight heaviness of his brows though, something you probably wouldn’t notice unless you know him like I do. Like I did. Other than that, he looks completely at ease.
He’s good. I’ll give him that.
He aims his perfect face at me and fixes me with a long, warning look that clearly saysbe cool. Be cool? The fuck if I will be. “We’ll see him tomorrow though. We’ll have chicken fajitas and toss a few beers back, just like the old days.”
That upsets my footing, knocking me off balance and sending me reeling. Spinning, falling, or flying, I can’t tell which. It confuses me and wakes a part of me I thought was long dead and buried. A small, stupid part that bases its happiness entirely on insignificant things like Romeo knowing my favorite food.
