“If you were listening to me, I wouldn’t have to resort to such measures.”
I sigh, relaxing in my chair. “You’re asking the wrong person, man. I’ve never been on a fucking date.”
“Ouch. I thought our picnic at sea was rather romantic, myself.”
Gus whips around so fast that I swear I hear a crack. I glance at the doorway much more reluctantly.
Wren appears well rested, although I know for a fact that she didn’t get much sleep last night. She’s wearing a strapless blue-and-white striped dress. Half of her hair is pulled up, the rest falling over her shoulders. She’s still not wearing the ring, and I hate that I checked.
“Wren. Hey.” Gus has stood, hands shoved in his back pockets, glancing between us uncertainly. His gaze lingers on me mostly, waiting for some cue on how to act.
Wren realizes. She smiles. “You’re a loyal friend, Gus. Can I get a hug even though you hate me?”
“I, uh, don’t …” Gus shoots me a helpless look as Wren wraps her arms around his back. The sandals she’s wearing have a heel, so she’s only a few inches shorter than he is.
They separate, Wren still smiling.
“You’re dating someone?”
“Uh, not really.” He scratches the back of his head. “I mean, we went out once.”
“Do I know her?”
“No.” Gus swallows, casting me another quick look.
Wren hasn’t glanced at me once, and I’m as annoyed about that as Iam about her randomly showing up here.
“She just started working at the yacht club this summer.”
Wren takes one of the open chairs across from me, making herself comfortable in my office. “Where’d you go on your first date?”
“We had dinner at Shells,” Gus answers. “And it went great, but I wanted to plan something more … original for the next time. You guys, uh … you guys did a picnic? Anything else?”
Wren’s smile wavers for the first time. “We were, like, kids. Not a ton of options.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “What about the drive-in? That could be cute for a second date. Bring candy and a blanket. Or an outdoor concert—don’t they have those in the park sometimes? Or …”
I lose the battle with listening to her other suggestions, too preoccupied with the realization that Wren planned our one and only outing that could be categorized as a date. We had sex, we went to parties, our paths crossed at Lucky’s. That was it. I was a shitty … whoever I was to her.
I’m mad she left. Mad about how she left. And I’m equally frustrated with my own past decisions.
Gus seems to realize my attention is diverted, though I’m not sure he really knows why. I’m not sure I know. I thought about Wren when she wasn’t here, and now I’m thinking about her while she is instead of assisting with my best friend’s love life.
“I should get back to work,” Gus says, inching toward the door like he’s escaping a volatile situation. “It was, um, good to see you, Wren. And thank you for the ideas. Really. I appreciate it.”
Wren nods. “If you need more advice, you know where to find me.”
Gus smiles. Nods back. And then hurries out of my office, shutting the door behind him.
I reach forward, pulling some papers closer to the keyboard so I can at least pretend to be busy. “Does that mean you’re staying a while?” I ask lazily, like I give zero shits about the answer.
She doesn’t give me one. “You sent me letters?”
When I glance up, she’s leaning forward, elbows on her knees.
“You started it,” I reply, grabbing a pen out of the cup and spinning it around my finger. “It wasyourstupid senior-year assignment, remember?”
Wren shakes her head impatiently. “Not in high school. After. After I left for college.”
I stiffen, not replying. But I don’t really need to, I guess. My silence says enough.
