Page 11 of The Love You Fight For
It makes him look younger, like we’re sixteen again and skippingschool to hang out in Chris Casper’s garage. Only back then, the licorice would have been a joint and the soda would have been expensive liquor we stole from my father.
“Can you blame her?” I say to Macon. “She has to see your ugly face every day. She deserves a respite with someone more aesthetically pleasing.”
Macon grins, chewing his licorice with his mouth open, and Lennon laughs from her spot beside me. I glower jokingly at him, then turn to face my best friend.
“Thanks again for letting me stay with you.” I don’t have to tell her how much I hate sleeping at my parents’ house. It’s cold, haunting, and full of memories I’d rather banish from my mind. “I just needed to get out of D.C. for a few days, and I feel like we haven’t hung out in forever.”
“Three months since my last gallery show.” She nods.
Lennon is a very talented artist. So talented, in fact, that her watercolor paintings are displayed at a gallery in D.C., and the gallery regularly features her new pieces in artist spotlight events. Usually when she’s in town for gallery-related things, she’ll stay at my place, and when I’m in Franklin, which isn’t very often anymore, I’ll stay with her and Macon.
I look back at my best friend’s boyfriend.
“You’re sure you’re cool with me crashing?” I ask, and he arches an eyebrow.
I hold my breath even though I know what he’s going to say. It’s been eight years since we graduated high school, even longer since our “relationship” died a violent death, but the dynamic between Macon and me will probably always be a little weird. We’ve always cared for each other. There will always be love there, but we weren’t kind to each other. We used each other. And despite the fact that he’s now in an epic love, soulmate sort of relationship with my best friend, he’ll always be another man who let me down.
It’s times like this—where I’m left feeling vulnerable and at his mercy—that I have to remind myself just how badly I also let him down.
Macon and I were terrible friends to each other. We were even worse lovers. We were young and selfish and fucking stupid.
But Macon and Lennon?
They’re perfect together and seeing their love flourish gives me hope. If Macon and Lennon can heal each other’s broken hearts and grow together, there could be someone out there for me. Eventually.
“Would it matter if I wasn’t?” Macon smirks.
“Nope.” Lennon’s grin is playful, and he huffs a laugh.
“I’m going to go play darts.” He pushes himself up to stand beside the booth. “You’re always welcome at our place, Harper. You know that. Even if I do end up exiled to the couch so you and my girl can have sleepovers like you’re twelve years old.”
Macon locks eyes with Lennon and bends over so he’s leaning into her space. Gripping her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, he brings his mouth down to hers, kissing her softly in the middle of the bar. I don’t look away. Instead, my grin grows as Lennon’s face flushes and her ears turn pink.
When he breaks the kiss, her chest is rising and falling more rapidly than before, and I have to stifle a laugh at the way her hands fist in her lap. No doubt, to keep from reaching for him. Macon is smirking when he straightens to his full height, then he waggles his index finger between me and Lennon.
“You two be good.”
Lennon salutes him with a serious nod, trying and failing to act like he didn’t just light a fire under her with that kiss, and he winks at her before heading off to the dart boards. She stares at his back until he disappears, and then I release a teasing laugh, bumping her shoulder with mine.
“Jesus, Len, take a breath already.”
She squirms a little and rolls her eyes.
“Shut up. I can’t help it. When he does stuff like that, it makes my brain go all fuzzy.” She takes a few sips of her drink, then flares her eyes at me sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“I’m kidding.” I bring my own glass up to clink it with hers. “You know I love seeing you in love. It sure as hell beats when you were mopey and pissy all the time. Though I’ll admit, I liked not having to share you.”
Lennon’s smile falls a bit, and she purses her lips. I know what she’s thinking. Our relationship has taken a hit in the last year or so, and that’s on me. I haven’t been around much. She moved back to the States, yet the distance between us has grown. I’ve either been busy, or I’ve been avoiding this town. Usually, it’s a little of both.
“How are you? How have you been?” Her voice is lower this time, and she lets her eyes scan over my face. “Are you sleeping? You look tired.”
I laugh her off.
“That’s a nice way of telling me I look like shit, Lennon.”
She shrugs and takes a sip of her drink.
“You apply a damn good face, Sam, but you forget that I know your secrets. I know the flawless concealer and highlighter just means you need to hide the circles under your eyes. I know the overlining of your lips is because you need a confidence boost, and if I were a betting woman, my money would be that you’re wearing waterproof mascara and eyeliner, too.”
