Page 35 of Leah

My brows pinched together. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because a part of you wants to know.”

“Know what exactly?”

“IfI’vemoved on.”

I let out a sharp breath. He was right, of course. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Carter.”

“How am I doing that?”

“Because clearly you have.”

“Is that right?”

I looked wearily at him.

He was always so hard to read; a closed book you couldn’t judge the cover of.

“What do you see in her exactly?” I suddenly wondered, referring to Molly. “She’s dense, and I don’t mean that rudely, or anything. She’s gorgeous, I get it. But she seems genuinely dense.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, Leah, she is.”

“And you don’t care?”

“Girls like her are fun.”

“Fun?”

“Nothing serious.”

I frowned just thinking about it. “Still not one to commit, huh?”

That seemed to darken his mood immediately, and rightfully so. I’d just poked the nest with that remark, but so had he by questioning my sex life.

He cast me a bitter look, his nose flaring as he retorted, “At least this way they don’t fuck with me like…”

“Like me,” I finished, nodding.

A few minutes in and we were already cutting each other up.

How joyful was this reunion?

He went still, most likely thinking the same thing, and slowly the wall he’d so expertly put up went down. “That came out wrong,” he muttered, apologetically. “I’m sorry, Leah. I haven’t seen you in three years, and what do I do? I come back acting like a fucking douchebag, like before. It’s like I can’t fucking help myself.”

Dammit.

“You’re not a douchebag,” I softly replied. “You’re entitled to your…fun. That’s what made us different in the end.”

“Fun,” he whispered back, thoughtfully. “Is that what you think our time together was to me?”

Wasn’t it?

I didn’t answer.

He drank some more beer down, a frown firmly planted on his face. This was my best friend at one point, I reminded myself. While I knew I’d never wantmorewith him again, I couldn’t take upsetting him.

Truth was, I missed him.

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