“You can park in the back alley. My neighbor is away this weekend.” Melanie gestures toward the narrow side street. I turn the corner and pull into the spot beside her car.
Killing the ignition, I turn and look at her. Her eyes are hooded and her cheeks rosy. She’s looking at me like she wants me to reach for her, but I can’t yet. Not until I say what I need to say.
Melanie hums and then lets out a sigh. “Shall we go in?” She turns to open her door.
Before I can stop myself, I put my hand on her forearm. “Mel, wait.”
She turns back, raising her eyebrows uncertainly. “What is it?”
“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I did come back to find inspiration for my music—that much is true. But I also came back for another reason.” I fill my lungs with air and close my eyes.
“Which is?” Melanie all but whispers.
“I’m in a twelve-step program. I joined voluntarily, honest. I’ve never been in any sort of trouble—I just felt myself heading down a dangerous path.” I scratch at my chin and look away.
“Okay,” Melanie says slowly, pursing her lips. “We should probably stop going to bars.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. I’m doing okay. The desire for a drink isn’t there. I got a hold on it before it was too late.”
Melanie’s expression is unreadable. “I don’t understand. Then what is it?”
I sigh, scrubbing my hand down my face. “I’m at the part where I need to make amends with anyone I’ve wronged. I’ve done that for most everyone in my life. Except you, Mel. I don’t like how we left things.”
“Josh, you already apologized. I said I forgive you,” Melanie reminds me, brushing my forearm lightly. “I’msohappy you’re back,” she adds, but there’s a distance in her voice.
“I know,” I say. “But Melanie, leaving you like that… It ruined all my other relationships. I loved youso much.I’ve never even come close to that feeling again. And seeing you now, knowing you’re still single too… I have so much guilt. Like maybe I ruined your life too.” I don’t realize it, but my eyes have filled with unshed tears. One escapes and I move to brush it away, but Melanie gets there first.
Our eyes meet as she lightly thumbs away the tear streaming down my cheek. “You didn’t ruin my life, Josh,” Melanie whispers, cupping my face.
I nod. “I’m just so sorry that I left without saying goodbye. I’m sorry it’s taken me twenty-five years to make things right.” I suck in a breath. I’m also sorry for other things that have nothing to do with her and everything to do with why I hate myself so much. I swallow them—if I tell her, she’ll hate me too.
“I know you are,” she murmurs, pulling back. If I’m not imagining it, her tone has shifted. She seems uncomfortable now. “You were just a kid, Josh. We both were.” Melanie sighs. “I’m glad you’re back. And I’m glad you’re taking the steps to heal.”
“Thank you for forgiving me,” I say, looking her in the eye.
“How could I not?” Melanie’s voice is barely above a whisper.
Despite my instincts telling me to back off, I grab her hand, pulling her into a hug. Her body is warm against mine, and whatever trepidation she had moments ago is gone as she softens against me. “Let’s go inside,” she breathes into my neck.
I follow Melanie slowly up the rickety wooden staircase, willing myself not to feel the desire simmering in my gut for her. That ship should have sailed. We’re adults now, friends. One of us with a ton of baggage. She doesn’t need to be mixed up with me. I have to keep this platonic, no matter how much I ache for more.
Melanie slowly unlocks the front door. The landing is small, and my body is flush against hers as she fumbles with the keys. The heat between us is palpable, and yet tiny little goose bumps appear on the back of Melanie’s shoulder. She drops the keys, and we both reach to get them.
“Damn it,” she mutters.
“I got it,” I say at the same time.
We crouch down together, bumping heads, both of us laughing and breaking the tension before our gazes catch. Our hands clasp around the key ring together, her touch sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. Neither of us pull away, and we stay there on the landing, looking longingly at each other. Melanie’s gaze drops from my eyes to my mouth to our hands clutching the keys.
She clears her throat. “I got it.” Her voice is a whisper as she gently tugs the keys out of my grasp. She stands and unlocks the door, pushing inside. I follow silently, feeling ridiculous for thinking we were having a moment. I can’t even blame my foolishness on alcohol.
We kick our shoes off at the door, and I have the distinct urge to escape her as quickly as possible before I do or say something stupid. I rake my hands through my hair and head toward the bathroom. “Well, good night,” I murmur, brushing past her.
Catching me by surprise, Melanie reaches for my wrist. “Josh,” she says, her voice breathless.
I slowly turn to face her and as soon as our eyes meet, Melanie closes the gap between us. She lunges for me, cupping my face and kissing me like she’s been starving for the taste for the past two decades. Our lips crash together, teeth clashing, and the space between us breaks like a dam. Melanie isn’t tentative, she kisses me urgently, like it might be the last time. I kiss her back, wrapping my palm around her neck, the years we spent apart colliding into this one aching moment. It’s messy and hopeful, and it steals the breath from my lungs.
Melanie walks me backward, shoving me against a bare wall, deepening the kiss for a moment longer, before pulling back, letting her teeth drag on my lower lip. She pulls back, biting her swollen lip and eyeing me cautiously. “Good night, Josh,” she whispers. She heads for her bedroom. I don’t move until I hear her bedroom door click shut.
