“Doesn’t every girl envision her dream wedding when she’s like five years old?”
I laugh. “Not five. Maybe seven.” I shrug. “I’d want something simple, elegant. Nothing too flashy. Something in the moment.”
“I’ve made a mental note.” He smirks. Then he rounds the foot of the bed to my side. Bending at the waist, he rests his palms on either side of me. “I have to get going before I crawl back into bed with you and finish what we started last night.” He kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“Let me walk you out.” My fingers grip the edge of the blanket and lift.
“Stay in bed. Go back to sleep.” His lips press to my forehead in a soft kiss.
Before I can say to hell with this and drag him back to bed, he exits my bedroom and descends the stairs. I hear rustling for a few seconds before the front door opens and clicks shut.
He’s chipped away a little more, okay a lot more, of the hatred I’ve held on to for so long. A friendship is inching closer to the horizon.
FIFTEEN
WEIRD GRAY AREA
ONE DAY LATER
Dessa
A bead of sweat slides down my forehead and I wipe it away with my forearm. This is worse than losing my phone. I continue to tear apart my entire townhome, searching for my notebook of drinks. My drink recipes are like a window into my soul at that moment. Losing it is equivalent to losing a part of myself. Currently, distress signals are blaring. Flares have been shot. All is lost.
Collapsing onto the stool at my kitchen island, I rest my elbows on the counter and drop my head in to my hands. What did I do with it last night? That’s years and years of work and right now it’s missing. Sure, I have the majority of the recipes memorized and Rylee and Lach can help fill in the missing pieces since I’ve used most ofthem at Porter’s for the Drink of the Week, so starting from scratch wouldn’t be the end of the world. But even so, I’d rather have my notebook.
I remember I had it yesterday when Garrett was over, but there was a lot of alcohol consumed, and I have no idea where I placed it. Shit. A wave of panic washes over me. Did it accidentally get thrown in the trash? I’d cry. Next to me on the counter, my phone buzzes with an incoming message.
Rylee
I’m on my way. I have your charcoal handbag for you.
Dessa
Thanks. Just come in when you get here. It’s unlocked.
Five restless minutes later, Rylee’s strolling through the front door. I lean back on the stool. “I’m in here!” She holds up the handbag. “You can set it on the chair.”
She sets the bag down and continues her way into the kitchen. With my foot, I push out the stool next to me and she takes a seat.
“Thanks for letting me borrow it. I never imagined I would be the type of person to attend fancy galas, but they mean a lot to Trey and his career. The least I can do is raid your closet for something outside of jeans and t-shirts.” Her brows furrow when she takes notice of my destroyed kitchen. “What happened here?”
“I can’t find my recipe notebook. I’ll have to put the search and rescue mission on pause, though, so I can get ready for the wedding.”
With her elbow on the counter, she rests her chin onher hand and twists to face me. “I still can’t believe you’re going to this wedding.”
I groan. “I know. A part of me wonders why I’m doing it. But I think it’ll be good. It will show that we’re all moving forward.” I pick at the edge of my phone case. “I chatted with Tony and briefly met his soon-to-be wife. They stopped by Porter’s on their way out of town for the wedding a couple of nights ago.”
“And that wasn’t awkward?” Her brows raise.
“No. It was good. We’re all in the position to be friends again. I’ve known his family for so many years. It’ll be great to see them again, especially his nana.”
“The only one you failed to mention is Garrett.”
“Yes. The giant elephant in the room wherever he goes.”
“What’s going on with you two?”
I bite down on my lower lip as I contemplate my answer. Mostly because I don’t know the answer. We’ve fought, kissed, fought, and then drunkenly exchanged orgasms. A part of me is excited Garrett’s back in my life. I can have my best friend again, but there’s still a giant rift between us I’m not sure we can ever repair. “I’m not really sure. We’re in this weird gray area of friends, but friends who’ve also touched each other’s privates.” We both laugh. “But we haven’t talked it out at all. And honestly, after the past week, I’m tired of talking.”