Thanks for the pizza and the company. Needed that. We should do it again sometime.
Little Red
The door closesbehind me with a click, and I nearly sprint to my car. The crisp autumn air is sharp in my lungs, and I try to gulp it down, wishing it would clear my head. It doesn’t work, not when his cologne still clings to my sweater like a secret. Not when the memory of how perfectly we get along plays on repeat.
“Friends,” I mutter as I start my car, then laugh at myself.
I leave the thought in the driveway as I pull away. I’m not searching for a relationship, and neither is Nick. The reason why we so easily gravitate to one another is because we’re both broken. It’s why we’re honest with one another. There are no expectations, and what you see is exactly what you get. I’ve never met a man like him before.
Each time we’re together, I realize how much I enjoy his company and how our conversations flow freely. It’s as if I’ve known him forever when, in reality, it’s the third time we’ve met up.
Last October, when I was at Bookers, crying about Craig at the end of the bar, Nick talked me off the ledge. I shared my weaknesses, and he told me my ex was an idiot. He also explained how I shouldn’t take relationship advice from him because he sucked at them.
He was there for me that night and listened to me bleed out, and his kindness is something I’ll never forget.
I drive to my condo in the middle of town, watching the thick fog twirl close to the ground. Mornings like this are my favorite—a reminder that fallofficiallybegins on Saturday, and that’s when the town celebration will kick off. I park and check my surroundings before I unlock the door.
The sun hasn’t risen yet, but it will within the next thirty minutes, which means I have to shower and get ready for work.
My place feels too empty and cold in comparison to where I just came from.
I drop my keys on the kitchen island and grab two aspirin for my head. After I swallow them down, I go straight to the bathroom to desperately wash away the lingering feeling of being held by Nick. I turn on the water, undress, then step into the shower.
The hot water pounds against my skin, and it barely removes the cologne that still lingers on me.
“Just friends,” I say aloud, as though repetition might help cement the thought into place.
But when I close my eyes, my mind drifts back to the effortless laughter, his flirty gaze, and how dangerously good it felt to be close to him. I twist the dial to cold, hoping shock therapy works. It doesn’t.
After my shower, I stand in my bedroom, staring at the sweater I wore last night. It smells like him, and I should wash it immediately.
Instead, I hold it to my face and breathe deep, wanting to remember that scent.
“Get it together, Jules,” I mutter, then throw the sweater in the hamper.
Just as I pull on some clothes for work, my phone dings in the kitchen.
Autumn
How was dinner with Mr. I’m Back, Baby?
I stare at the text, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
What am I supposed to say to her? That we talked until three in the morning? That I fell asleep on top of him on his couch and woke up in his arms? That neither of us made it throughWhen Harry Met Sally?
Another text appears before I can respond.
Autumn
Zane said your car was still at the cabin at four a.m., when he drove to town to get doughnuts for me!
Great.Guess there will be no denying that I stayed over.
It’s barely after six, but I’d be willing to bet half of Cozy Creek already thinks Nick and I were together doing everything except sleeping. I sigh. By lunch, the Fairy Godmothers of Cozy Creek will be picking out centerpieces for our wedding.
I turn my phone face down and don’t respond. I can’t deal with this right now, not when I need to be at work in just fifteen minutes.
My phone buzzes again, and when I glance at it, I’m disappointed to see it’s a reminder text from my coffee supplier, confirming delivery later today.
