“Hmm.” She doesn’t sound convinced as she checks her phone. “Wow, you should see some of these comments Jake’s got on that photo he took of his leg. No wonder he has an ego problem.”
“Does he say anything about retiring?”
“Nope.” She scrolls through the feed. “He’s posting all these fun replies. That’s got to be a good sign, right?”
I’m about to respond when it hits me we’re only ten minutes from my place. Like the car drove its bloody self. Then again, where did I intend taking her for lunch? It’s not a date.
But if Jake doesn’t backtrack, this might be the last time I see her before she heads back to Uni in a couple of weeks.
I don’t know why that bugs me, but it does.
I end up reversing into a resident parking bay along the road where I live, around the corner from Hyde Park. Mac raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything.
“Park Café?” I lean my arm on the steering wheel and look at her. Sure, it’s only a short walk to Knightsbridge, but asking her to go to a local café instead of a West End bar makes it more casual.
Where we used to meet up sometimes, before she started Uni.
“I thought you were going to invite me into your flat and cook me something amazing.”
“I could knock something together if you want.”There’s fuck all in the cupboards.Although the lack of food in my flat isn’t the reason why I didn’t invite her up.
“Wow, that’s a tempting offer.” She laughs, then suddenly stops and shoots me a look I can’t figure out. Almost as though she’d forgotten who she was talking to. “I didn’t think you were that domesticated.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “I can open a can of beans and boil an egg.”
“Glad I passed on your offer, then.” She gives me a grin, and I have the craziest wish to invite her to dinner one night, just so she can see for herself howdomesticatedI can be when it comes to the kitchen.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Um, cold baked beans and hardboiled egg, by the sound of it.”
“And your point is?”
She rolls her eyes as though I’m beyond help, just the way she used to when we were messing around. “Park Café’s great.”
“Good choice.” We get out of the car, and as we cross the road, she’s still smiling.
“Any place that serves triple chocolate flan is okay by me,” she says as we enter Hyde Park and stroll along the path toward the café.
“Yeah, I remember the last time we came here, you passed on dessert and then wolfed down mine.” Funny how that memory is as clear as anything, like it happened just the other week instead of two years ago.
“Excuseme. We shared that dessert. It was enormous. I did you a favor.”
“You’re all heart, Mac.”
“I know.” She gives a little huff of laughter. It’s been way too long since things were this relaxed between us. I’d forgotten how good our friendship used to be.
No, you didn’t.
“We spent the rest of the day watching movies at my place.”
“I still can’t believe you’d never watchedThe Princess Bridebefore then.”
“Not really my thing.”
“You loved it.”
I watched it because she wanted to. By the end of that summer, we’d seen it so many times, we quoted it verbatim to each other, like a secret code.
