Page 39 of Wish You Once More
My breath hitched.
As if in response to the sound, his eyes fluttered open, boring directly into me. A line of electricity shot from my brain to my clit at the feel of his glance.
“Hey.” I clutched the bottle closer to my chest. “You want ice?” Another irrelevant question I already knew the answer to.
Wordlessly, he nodded.
I turned my back, needing to get away from his intense stare. I could still feel him looking at me as I get two tumblers from the cupboard, put one piece of ice in each and sloshed the tequila in.
Exactly how he liked it.
Some things I didn’t forget.
Some things I wished I could.
19
Mat
When Bree thought I was asleep, I was really checking her out. The blue streak in her blonde hair was more prominent now than when we’d been together. So different to Ellie, who was always so polished and put together. Bree didn’t care her shorts were frayed, or that the oversized shirt she wore kept slipping off of one shoulder, exposing her black bra strap and creamy skin. I wanted to reach out and pull it back up, or more accurately slip the strap down over her shoulder and touch the soft skin beneath it. My dick twitched. If I kept thinking like this, God only knew what would happen.
Bree handed me a tumbler and I breathed in the familiar smell.
“You know what goes with this?” I tilted my head to one side and fished in my jeans pocket for the small tin I carried around with my free hand. “If you still…” I let the sentence trail off, unsure if she smoked weed any more.
She nodded. “I do. Although we’ll have to open the windows. Callie will kill me if she smells it.”
Before she sat down, Bree opened all the windows, letting in the sticky night air. Whatever breeze there was seemed more like a warm fan, rather than anything cooler. When she’d finally finished fussing, I patted the cushion next to me. Bree sat there, rigid like a statue, seemingly unable to relax. I placed my glass on the floor and sparked up the joint. Perhaps that would help.
We didn’t speak for a few minutes, passing the joint between us and sipping our drinks.
“Did you ever start your own business? Like you always said you were going to?” I couldn’t take the silence any longer.
“Wow, you really haven’t checked up on me since…” Bree didn’t finish the sentence. She sucked in her lips and reached for her bag. Tapping in the password for her phone, she pulled up something and passed me the device.
The Instagram account was for B’s Jewels. I scrolled through the pictures, checking out the pieces of upcycled furniture, most of which had ‘SOLD’ attached to them.
“These are all yours?”
“Yep. Harry finds me stuff from house clearances or auctions. I buy it off him and voila!” She waved her hands around, the ash from the joint falling around her like snowflakes. “You see something you like?”
Her words caught me off guard. I definitely saw something I liked, and it wasn’t on the grid.
Pride that she’d achieved what she set out to do flooded through me. For all the years we’d been together, while she was doing her Product Design and Craft course at Manchester Metropolitan University, her ultimate goal had been to have her own furniture restoration business. It looked like she’d done it, and so much more besides.
I’d seriously underestimated her talent, not to mention her drive.
Tossing the phone to one side, I took the joint from her hand and dropped it into the remains of my tequila, hearing the small hiss as it shrivelled and died.
I stared directly into her eyes, losing myself in those icy blue pools, the same as I always had. “I miss this.” My finger swirled around, pointing at the drinks, the joint, and then finally at Bree. “I miss you.”
Her lips parted, forming a silent gasp. She blinked fast, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks. “What about Ellie?”
“What about her?”
“Aren’t you and her, you know, together?” Bree twisted a strand of blue hair around her finger, something she always did when nerves overcame her.
Slowly, I shook my head. “She may have her own fashion brand, be effortlessly gorgeous and best friends with a supermodel, but-”
