Page 34 of Best Friends for Never

Noel easily snaps off the lid and hands it to me. He remembers that I hate opening them because they rough up my hands. Funny for someone who works in construction, but we all have our quirks.

I almost have my fingers curled around the wine cooler when he jerks it back. “Ah, that’s right. I almost forgot the taxes.”

He puts the bottle to his mouth, closing his lips around it as he tips his head back for a drink. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and I hate how much I enjoy watching it, almost as much as I hate myself for being so excited he remembered our ritual where he always takes the first drink or bite of my stuff as “tax.”

“The only time taxes are a good thing,” he says, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand before handing me my wine cooler.

I clutch the bottle tightly, hesitating. I was glad he remembered, but now I don’t know what to do. Should I wipe it off? Would it be weird if I did? I never used to before. Heck, back then, we used to share everything. Sandwiches, ice creams, drinks ... It didn’t matter because it was Noel, and nothing was ever weird with him.

Now . . . now it’s different.

And if the way he’s watching me closely is any indication, he feels the same way.

But I won’t give him the satisfaction of making this awkward. Instead, I bring the bottle to my lips and take a drink like it means nothing. Like he means nothing.

But it does matter.Hematters.

And that’s the hardest part of it all.

“Is it strange to say I’ve missed Tater Tots?” Noel pats his full stomach. Considering I once watched him eat five and a half meatball subs, I really shouldn’t be surprised he finished off his overly topped totsplushalf of mine, but I am. I have a feeling now that we’re finished, he won’t be moving from his Adirondack chair anytime soon.

We sit outside with a small fire while my mother cleans the kitchen. We tried to help her many times, but it wasn’t until she threatened to change the locks on the house and never invite us over again that we gave in and hurried outside before she made good on her promise.

“Do they not have Tater Tots in California?” I ask.

“Of course they do. But I can’t ever eat them. I’m always training for my next role, or we never go somewhere that has them. It’s too lowbrow.”

We.

I didn’t miss that. I want to ask what it means, if he has someone back home waiting for him, but I’m not sure I have that right anymore.

Sure, he asked about Axel this morning, but maybe I have more manners than Noel.

“Vince, my assistant, is the bigger foodie of us, so I just let him handle reservations.”

He makes reservations. That has to be for dates, right?

I push aside the thought.

It doesn’t matter, Parker. Not your business.

The crackle of the fire fills the quiet that settles between us, and for just a moment, I let myself escape back into the past when we used to do this regularly. We’d open the windows and let the record player spin us something good, watch the fire, and just be. Sometimes, we’d talk, swap stories of all different kinds, tell jokes, or sometimes, we’d just sitlike we are now. But no matter what we were doing, we were at ease with one another, just like we are in this moment.

“You can ask,” he says quietly, breaking our little bubble of silence.

“Hmm?”

“You can ask if I’m seeing someone.”

I shake my head. “It’s none of my—”

“I asked about Axel this morning,” he interrupts. “It’s only fair you get to be nosy in the same way.”

He has a point ... “Fine. Are you seeing anyone?”

“No.” The answer is so quick and automatic that it makes my heart soar with a happiness I haven’t felt in a long time. “But I have.”

And just like that, the happiness is gone.

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