Page 23 of Love at Teamsgiving
More recently, at least from what I’ve gleaned from Carlotta bragging to Mama, the true ostentatiousness began.
Including his return to our block, it would seem. That’s more like audacity, but I digress.
My heart flutters as I remember all the times I’d listen for him in the stairwell. This was back during the height of the somewhat inexplicable and wholly irrational mom-feud days, when our rivalry was just getting started, and he was still playing football while I was the team kicker.
Yet, we were always in each other’s orbit, riling each other up, unable to avoid entering a room where the other was. Hidden smiles turning into scowls, sneaked kisses turning into locking ourselves in the nearest closet.
“Wow,” Erica whispers.
“What?”
“Your cheeks are pink.”
I touch them. “With rage.”
“No, that would be red. You’re pink.”
A sharp knock comes from the door. We live on the fourth floor—no doorman. Miguel knows the code, so he never had to bother with the buzzer.
But I’m not blushing. No way. Then why is my face hot?
I thought I’d gotten him out of my life and out of my system.
Erica says, “While I’d love to see how this plays out, I should go.”
I turn toward the back of the apartment. “Right. We both should. Come on. The fire escape is this way.”
With surprising force, Erica shoves me toward the front door. “Juniper. Maybe the best man is here to discuss the wedding plans with the maid of honor.”
“Right. I’ll, um, just answer the door next week.”
“You won’t live here next week.”
My mind scrambles.
She presses her lips together, forcing back a smile. One I recognize because my expression and behavior must betray me.
I’m still smitten with my ex-fiancé.
CHAPTER SIX
I’mlucky to have walked out of the café earlier in dry clothes. I was certain Junie was going to throw hot liquids at me. Wouldn’t be the first time.
The woman is a human hurricane.
I got the full impact, complete with a frosty expression and a nonstop onslaught of sass, and took it like a man. But I pat my pocket once more to make sure I still have my wallet. No, she’s not a thief, but she did steal something of mine that I’ve never quite recovered.
And boy, have I tried. I’m not proud of the fact that I’ve sought out women to replace her.
No one has. Not even close.
I admit that I’ve tried to find someone to distract me from thoughts of her. Still zero on that score.
So why did I find myself on her block a few minutes ago? Standing in front of her building. I didn’t even bother trying to talk myself out of going up. Then, in the hallway, I gave Mr. Rickles, the building super, the same line since I was eight. “Yes, sir, I’m staying out of trouble.” He was a veteran of some war in some branch of the military. As a kid, he seemed old, but now he is ancient.
Junie and I grew up a few buildings apart. Not quite neighbors, but as close as you come to that in a place like Manhattan—the Lower East Side, to be exact.
The Popoviks lost a member not long ago, so now it’s just Junie, her mom, and her brother. He and I were best friends, and then we lost touch while we were in college. Moved to Southeast Asia or something. Junie has strong opinions about his girlfriend, but that’s about all I know.
