He looks at me as if that isn’t true. Again, I wonder where it went wrong between us and what I did to him. What was this mistake I made?
I watch as his body seems to harden in defense, and I can’t tell if he’s subconsciously bracing himself against his dad—or me. “He’s not worth our oxygen.”
I can sense the schoolboy I must have known. And the adolescent. Tangible memories try to push forward, for a friendship I remember only in glimpses. But even without distinct evidence, I increasingly trust this connection.
“I’m going for a quick shower before your parents wake up,” Bree says. “We’ll talk later, Evie.” She moves off the seat and hugs Drew again on the way past, but my envy has evaporated. This is the best friend I remember and the one I forgot, and there’s something beautiful about that.
“Do you want to talk about your mum?” I ask Drew, once Bree has closed the sliding door behind her.
“No.”
I suppose I can’t be allowed to walk back into our relationship just because I’ve finally been convinced it existed. “What’s our happiest memory?” I ask, changing tack. The sight of Bree hugging him like she’d trust him with her life has helped me jettison my remaining doubt.
He rakes his hand through his hair. Trying to dredge up some happiness to share?
“Come on, Drew. We were best friends. We must have happy memories. I know you’re scared to break me …”
“Because I’ve got form.”
I wonder what he means. Did he break me once before? Or someone else? “Tell me something gentle, then.”
He clasps his hands behind his head and looks at the sky as if I’m asking him for the moon. His T-shirt rides up and my eyes drop to the strong line of muscles making a V shape above his waistband.
“You all right?” he says, catching me staring.
Not as such. No, I haven’t seen abs like that on a man outside a Calvin Klein billboard.
“All right. Bioluminescence,” he says, tugging his T-shirt down. “We spent a night in Jervis Bay, splashing around in the water under the stars. It was …”
“Magical,” I whisper. “It’s on my bucket list.”
“Technically you’ve already ticked it off,” he explains. But he must notice how crushed I look. “You can always do it again. I just don’t know if we can top that night. They say you should never go back …”
“But I have to go back! I have to redo the good stuff, or I’ll lose it all.”
“It wasn’t all good. That night ended badly. Bad news about Mum.”
“Tell me I went with you,” I whisper.
He sits beside me again and puts his hand briefly over mine. “Of course you did.”
The idea of anything going wrong between us at a criticalpoint like that makes my heart hurt. What we used to have was clearlysomething. Before I wrecked it.
He says we weren’t together. That I was crazy about Oliver. So why do I feel so heartbroken over him? And what’s this electric energy I can’t ignore whenever I’m near him?
“Do you think we can start our friendship over?” I ask.
He looks guarded. And torn. And ten types of exhausted. He takes a moment, then looks at me with an intensity that stirs something inside me. It brings a bunch of feelings flooding back. A memory blunders forward that absolutely conflicts with the “we were just friends” narrative he’s been spinning.
“Weweremore than friends,” I tell him suddenly, breathless excitement shooting through my body. “Drew, you kissed me!”
64
Drew
Shit.
It’s like she’s cherry-picking every aspect of my past that I wanted to bury. Including that fucking kiss.
