Brendan licks his lips, looking thoughtful. “So how are you?”
My pulse quickens. Something about the way he posed the question makes it anything but casual.
“Good,” I answer, meeting his eye.
He stares at me. “I’ve missed you, you know.”
Oh, damn.
The confession is totally out of left field. My head fills with a buzzing. How do I even respond to that? I choose my words carefully. “It’s been a long time.”
“A year,” he agrees. “And almost two since we broke up. Are you happy here?”
“Yeah. This is where I want to be. I’m never going back to North Carolina. Not unless it involves a maximum of a four-day stay and a turkey. At least that’s how I feel about the place right now. I really can’t take it for much longer than that.”
He smirks.
“What about you? Do you ever think of leaving?”
He exhales heavily, and I can see he’s giving the question some thought. “Not really. It’s my home.”
“Hm.” I run my fingertip along the edge of the mug. I can’t relate. Not really. I miss my parents sometimes, sure, but that’s about it. Manteo never held my heart and it never will. L.A. is where I’m supposed to be.
I search for a question. “Do you still hang out with Dustin and them?”
He laughs and laces his fingers behind his head. The muscles in his forearms bulge. “Yeah.”
“So some things never change.”
“Nah,” he says, his Southern drawl poking out. “That one thing will always stay the same. We still have bonfires at least a couple times a month.”
“At his dad’s house? He doesn’t mind?”
“Nope.”
“I miss those.”
“We miss you at them. I’m not the only one talking and thinking about you.”
I look down into my coffee. “That’s nice.”
A long silence stretches out while we both sip our drinks and surreptitiously people watch. My phone buzzes and I look down at it. It’s a text from Eryk.
Crystal needs to go home. Where are you?
I send him a text back and then look up at Brendan. “I think it’s time for me to go. Eryk just sent me a cryptic message about Crystal needing to leave.”
“All right. That was quick.”
We head out for the street. Crystal and Eryk meet us halfway between the coffee shop and the club, Crystal leaning against Eryk’s arm.
“I’m beat,” Crystal slurs.
“How many drinks did you have?” I ask her.
“A few.”
Eryk rolls his eyes. “In twenty minutes. Good God. We just got here.”
“Yeah, well, we have to work tomorrow morning,” I say, “So it probably is a good time to leave.”
Eryk purses his lips into the snooty look he sometimes gets. “I know that.”
“Do you want to stay?” I ask him, waving my hand in his face to get his attention. “Can Brian give you a ride home?”
“I don’t want to ask him. He’ll probably stay until closing anyway, and that could be at, like, five. I’ll just go with you guys, I guess.”
“Okay.”
We head off down the street. At the corner, Brendan stops. “I parked over here,” he says, hooking his thumb behind him.
My heart sinks a little bit. We just got to see each other for the first time in a year, and it was good — no crying involved at all! I don’t want our reunion to be over so soon. “Okay. Well, text me? Maybe we can hang out this weekend.”
He smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands.” He waves and turns around.
My roommates and I head for my car. I loop my arm around Crystal’s waist to help her walk. Once Crystal is in the back and I’m behind the steering wheel, Eryk speaks. “Why did you guys sneak off?”
I snort. “Sneak off? We didn’t sneak off. I sent you a text.”
“I got it. But why couldn’t you have just stayed at the club?”
“Eryk, you know I don’t really like clubs all that much. Sorry. I mean, sometimes they’re fun, but I think Brendan was uncomfortable there.”
He cranks the AC. “I can tell. Can you believe he drinks Budweiser?”
“Yes,” I defensively say. “A lot of people do where we’re from. It’s North Carolina, remember? I’m sorry he’s not up to your standards.”
Eryk sighs and drops his head against the rest. “It’s not the beer. Sorry. It’s stupid of me to make fun of him for that. It’s something else.”
“What?”
Eryk shrugs. “It’s just this sense I get about him.”
I risk a quick glance at him. “That’s not much of an argument.”