“I’ve seen better,” she replied with a smirk.
Rex grabbed a throw pillow from behind sofa—one that Jenna insisted he need so the entire house didn’t look like a mancave— and swung it back to playfully hit her.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Monica grinned and blocked the pillow. She then grabbed her own and a full pillow fight broke out.
They laughed until tears rolled down their faces, their equilibrium back in place. This was how they rolled. No emotions or talk of a relationship, just a good time between two friends who happened to be attracted to each other. Their arrangement had worked well, until last winter. He’d thought he’d come to terms with it, but his phone call last week said otherwise. Now, Monica’s arrival would force the issue again, upsetting the delicate balance.
“What do you think Jenna will tell your mom about why she’s there right now instead of here.”
“Probably nothing. Jenna’s cool like that. Beau and I might be the closest, but Jenna and I are the most alike. She’ll tell mom she wanted to have some girl time or something like that.”
“How is Lacey? Every time I asked Boss, he told me not to worry about anything work related. I started to call Lacey so many times but wasn’t sure the reception I’d receive. The investigation cleared me of any wrongdoing, but I can’t shake the feeling of failure.”
“She’s great. Did you know she’s pregnant? I’m going to be an uncle.” He set the pillow aside. “Kind of. She’s my cousin, but like a sister.”
“That’s great. I had my suspicions, but it would have been pretty early, so I kept it to myself. It seems like baby fever is going around. My sister is due in late November.”
“The one married to your high school boyfriend?”
She cleared her throat and nodded. “The one and only.”
“Man, that must be awkward.”
“You’re such a guy sometimes.” Monica rolled her eyes. “That was a long time ago. Besides, if I hadn’t dumped him, I wouldn’t be here having fun with you, now would I?”
His eyes narrowed and his mood darkened. “Is fun all I am to you?”
“We’ve been through this. Neither one of us is good at relationships.” She pursed her lips and sighed. “We have a good thing going, why mess it up?”
“How is this good? Yes, the company and kisses are good—it’s more than good, and it is mind-blowing amazing. But we both want more, and you know it, only you’re too scared to admit it.”
“You’re one to talk.” Her hazel eyes clouded. “I told you I’m not ready for a commitment and you went off on a drinking binge, doing who knows what and I don’t hear from you in four months until you call me drunk in the middle of the night. If you really wanted more, why did you leave me when I needed you the most?”
Their voices raised and collided as fire and ice faced off, brutally exposed and creating a steam of truth to fill the air.
He jumped to his feet, unable to sit any longer. “You’ve never needed anyone but yourself, Monica. You’ve made that perfectly clear on many occasions.”
She stopped, sucked in a long breath before exhaling at a painfully slow pace. “Maybe that’s what I thought before, but I realized I needed you. I needed someone by my side who could understand the dangers of my job and not run when the going got tough. Who would stay by me during my recovery, or at least come to see me?”
“What do you want from me?” He threw his hands in the air. “You already shot me down once. I’m a man, not a superhero whose heart can take a beating then turn right around for another.”
“But you stayed at the hospital while I was unconscious.”
“You know about that?” He covered his mouth with a closed hand.
“Why,” she pressed.
He rubbed his jaw then dropped his hand to his side. “I needed to know you’d be okay.”
“But you couldn’t give me the courtesy to check on me after? I thought we were at least friends. Why didn’t you come back or call?”
He slammed a fist on the end table. “You scared the life out of me. When I saw you lying in that bed, I felt the life sucked out of me. That’s the night I called my mom drunk because I knew then I was in love with you and it terrified me. For once in my life, I could see myself settling down and maybe raising a family. I’ve never felt that way about anyone before, but you had made it perfectly clear you weren’t interested in more than a good time, especially not with me.”
Embarrassed by his admission, he spun around and stalked out the door. He stomped to the shed and tried messing around with his tools to distract himself. After thirty minutes, he gave up and sat on the shed’s steps, regretting the vulnerable position he’d placed himself in.
What was Monica thinking? Was she as shaky as he felt? They needed to sort this out, once and for all. She’d come to see him—that had to stand for something. He walked back to the house but stopped at the porch. He wasn’t ready to face her yet, was afraid of what conclusions they’d come to.
He sunk into a rocking chair. His mom had insisted on buying two for him as a house-warming present. Although he’d protested, claiming they made him feel like an old man, she’d insisted, saying a house wasn’t a home without a rocking chair on the porch.
