Page 18 of Best of Me

“Do I? Okay, well, I’ll stop somewhere and replace it.”

Duke leans down into my open window, crowding me…invading my space. “You’ll replace it?” he asks, disbelief evident in his tone.

“Well, yeah. I would have already done it had I known. So…thanks?”

He shakes his head, biting down on the left corner of his lower lip. “No, I mean,you’llreplace it, or you’ll get someone to do it?”

My nose scrunches at his question. “Me. I’ll do it. It’s not like it’s difficult.”

An incredulous laugh slips past his lips. “You sure, Cricket?” Anger simmers in my veins. This asshole just called me a freaking bug,andhe’s implying that he thinks I’m too helpless to do something as simple as swap out a taillight.“I can recommend a good shop to do it for you.”I’m going to go to prison for murder.

Done listening to his bullshit, I ask, “Do you need my license and registration or are we done here?”

“You don’t want the name of the shop then?”

My fingers curl around the side of my seat, squeezing until my knuckles turn white. “Nope. Contrary to what you seem to believe, I’m no fucking damsel. Not only can I handle this all on my own, I can also change my own tire and my own oil. But thanks anyway. So, I’ll ask you again, are we done here?”

Duke smirks, and I’m torn between wanting to claw his eyes out or wanting to draw his chiseled face to mine for a kiss.Nope. Definitely the first.I’m pretty sure there’s an unwritten rule somewhere—girl code, sister code, you name it—that you don’t think about kissing your sister’s man. What in the hell is wrong with me? This man, somehow, has me tied in knots and thinking crazy.

“Guess we’re done here,” Duke says, taking a slight step away from my car. I’m about to roll up my window when he tacks on, “Be sure and get it fixed today; if it’s out next time I see you, it’ll be a ticket.”

I raise two fingers to my forehead in a salute, leaving only the middle up as I draw them away. “Yes, sir, officer.” It’s probably my imagination playing dirty tricks on me, but I swear Duke groans under his breath when I call him sir. How strange.

The morning of the party, I’m a tangled-up mix of excitement and apprehension. Excited, because for the first time in my life, I feel like I’ve found my place in the world. I have a great place to call home, a good job, and a great group of people to call my friends. It’s the friends part that astonishes me the most. For so long, I convinced myself that I was fine on my own…that I didn’t need anyone. Then Ashley gave me a taste of friendship, and now, well—now my plate is full, and I couldn’t be happier.

Which brings the apprehension. I guess, in a way, I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. What if they decide they don’t like me? Or what if my weird tension with Duke causes issues? I worry this will all be taken from me and I’ll end back at point zero; and now that I know what a full life feels like, that emptiness would quite possibly break me.

Dressed in a light floral maxi over my swimsuit, I grab my bag and my gift for the happy couple and hop in my car. Their party is actually a poolside get-together at Natalie’s house, and I’m excited to try some of her and her husband’s food. Here’s to seeing if it’s as good as the hype.

It’s better…so much better,I think as I pop another sesame-ginger meatball into my mouth. I mean, how can a meatball be this freaking good? Honestly, the food Natalie and Alden prepared for this party could put a Michelin-starred restaurant to shame.

I’ve been laid back in one of the many pool loungers, snacking and mingling, for the last twenty minutes, discreetly scanning Natalie’s well-appointed backyard for Duke, but so far, he’s a no-show. A thread of worry works its way through me; I can’t imagine him missing his best friend’s engagement party. I hope I’m not the reason for his absence.

I’ve moved onto the pork dumplings when a shadow falls over me. Looking up, I see it’s Nate. “Having a good time?” he asks, lowering himself to sit on the end of the lounger next to me.

My mouth is full, so I nod until I can speak. “Yeah, I am.” I wrack my brain for something to say, finally settling on, “Congrats, by the way. On, you know, being engaged.”

Amusement swims in Nate’s eyes. “We’ve never really talked one-on-one.”

I clear my throat a little. “Um, no. We haven’t.” Where on earth is he going with this?

He cranes his neck from side-to-side, scoping out the backyard as if he’s looking for something—or someone. After a few more passes, he seems satisfied. “About the other night, at dinner…”

I gulp. This can’t be good. “What about it?” I ask, surprised at my level tone.

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase; Duke’s got a lot on his plate. He’s been stuck in this…limbo…for a long time. Most days are good, but some are harder than others. And he’s been having a lot more hard days since seeing you. He tries to play it off like everything’s fine, and to someone who doesn’t know him like I do, it’s believable. But he’s been moodier, a little withdrawn.”

My hackles rise. Is he seriously blaming me for Duke’s surly ways? I’m ready to call him out, not caring one bit that this is his party or that in doing so I’ll most likely lose the only friends I have outside of Ashley.

Nate must read my intent on my face, because he rushes to add, “I’m not saying it’s your fault.” I take a breath, waiting on him to explain further. “Well, not really. It’s nothing you’re doing, it’s just…you. Honestly, I think you being here is good for him. It’s forcing him to face a lot of things he just kind of shoved down deep when he lost Valorie. For so long he’s been teetering on the brink of living, but most days he’s just going through the motions. I…I think you could be the push he needs to really start living again. But, Mallory, be careful with him; don’t hurt him.”

I stare at Nate blankly, taking him in as I chew up and digest his words. His handsome face is open and honest; the fool truly believes everything he just said. “I think you have the wrong idea about the nature of mine and Duke’s relationship; mainly believing that there is one. We’re not even friends. We’re two people who share a dead loved one. That’s it.” But even as I say it, it tastes like a lie, bitter on my tongue and difficult to swallow. A tiny, quiet, hidden part of my heart screams that he could be more.

Nate studies me, looking for the fib. Finally, he says, “I think you’re wrong. Maybe you don’t know it. Hell, maybe he doesn’t either, but there’s something there, tying the two of you together, and it’s more than a common loss.”

I shake my head in denial, though I’m not sure which of us I’m trying to convince more, me or him. “No. You’re wrong.”

“Nah, I don’t think I am, Mal.”

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