Page 42 of Friends with Benefits

‘I’d do anything for you, Jake. You know that.’

‘Yeah, I do. And the same goes for you.’ I pull back from him and slap a hand against his cheek, letting it linger. ‘As for you for marrying Becky, I couldn’t be happier for you, seriously. She’s great.’

He wraps his hand around the nape of my neck and shakes me once, hard. He points at me, the joint between his fingers. ‘Not a word.’

‘My lips are sealed.’

Drew passes the joint to Brooks and sits back in his wicker chair. I sit down on the deck, then pull my knees up and put my hands behind my head as I lie back, staring up at the star-studded sky.

‘So, when’s the big moment?’

‘I don’t know yet. But Millie and Mom would kill me if I didn’t let them celebrate with us, and they’re coming here on Saturday night, which means…’

‘You better get a move on,’ Brooks finishes, handing the weed down to me.

As we pass the joint and Brooks lights another, I can feel myself slipping into peace. I feel my body sinking into the deck. The sky and the stars seem to move closer.

‘Emily shagged Brandon.’ The words leave me on a sigh.

‘Yeah, I figured as much when they walked into the bar together tonight,’ Drew says. ‘Who are you pissed at, him or her?’

‘Both. Him for knowing how I felt about her and doing it anyway. Her for… hell, I don’t even know.’ I close my eyes and feel myself drift more as the weed keeps moving through my system. ‘They were at it for months and neither one of them told me. Regardless of anything I felt about her, or that I thought she felt about me, it’s the lies that I can’t stand. She was my best friend and I thought Brandon was a good guy.’ I open my eyes to take the joint from Brooks. ‘I think I’m pissed at myself too, for not seeing it. For not… for not doing anything about Emily sooner.’

‘Ever wondered why you didn’t?’ Brooks asks.

I turn my head to the side and look at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You loved Emily; everyone knew that. But you never went for anything more. Maybe work out why you didn’t. You need to figure out why you decided something had changed. Maybe once you’ve done that, you’ll be able to put this mess to bed and get your friend back.’

‘Brooks, I swear to God, you’re the Dalai Lama,’ Drew says, and we all laugh.

‘When did you turn into a shrink?’ I ask.

‘I’m no shrink, man. I just had to pull my head out of my ass younger than most people. Now I have a teenage daughter to contend with and need to be both Dad and counselor.’

‘Yeah, that’s what you get when you knock your girlfriend up at sixteen,’ I say.

Silence falls between us for seconds before Brooks laughs, hard, throwing his head back. Then Drew and I are laughing with him. We laugh for so long, I can’t even remember what was funny.

When we calm, Brooks picks up his guitar. I close my eyes as he starts to strum, then he sings a Brantley Gilbert track. The natural huskiness he’s always had in his voice, even when he and Drew had their high-school band and Brooks sang lead, is still there. But with age, his voice has deepened, and whether it’s the weed, the stars, the light breeze coming off the ocean, or being in the company of two men I love and respect, I drift as he sings, until my entire body is weightless.

When the song comes to an end, Brooks strums slowly and softly, to no particular tune.

‘God, I’ve missed New York and being close to you guys,’ I confess, as much to myself as them.

‘You can always come home, Jake,’ Drew says.

I could. But home is also England, with Jess. ‘I couldn’t leave her.’

Neither one of them responds and as Brooks starts singing again, I’m left to think about how much I mean those words. I couldn’t leave her. I’d never want to. She’s only yards away from me and I miss her. Is that possible?

When Brooks kicks into the chorus of Blake Shelton’s ‘Mine Would Be You,’ I join in without conscious thought. Drew does too. And we’re all singing until I start to laugh.

‘I’m finally part of the band. It only took sixteen years.’

‘And you’re still not cool enough,’ Brooks says, breaking the song. Hell, we’re at it again, laughing through the start of a third joint. ‘Why is everything hilarious when you add weed to the equation?’

My question goes unanswered because Brooks suddenly switches his beat and all three of us are screaming out the word’s to Wheatus’s ‘Teenage Dirtbag.’ We sound like cats in heat but, damn, we’re having a good time.

---