Teagan's calendar reminder buzzes on my phone. I still haven't canceled them. Why?

I'm not that much of a dumbass. I know she'll never forgive me, never let me that close again. So why can't I accept that? Why don't I want to accept that?

"Hey," Shelley nudges my arm. "Whatcha thinkin' about so hard?" She leans her cheek on her fist and gives me a cute smile.

What am I not thinking about? She makes it easy to forget about all the things swirling around my head. Well, all but one. "Nothing."

"It didn't look like nothing."

"Sorry, there's just a lot on my mind. Drama always hits a peak this time of year."

"The heat makes everyone crazy," she says. Another smile.

"It does." I turn off my screen. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah!"

Lunch is much less expensive than dinner. One of the new tricks I've learned while being an ex-rich kid. There's not a great way to hang out with people without spending money. Unless they come over. I still haven't had a girl in my apartment without the intention of getting her naked, so . . . soups and sandwiches it is. 

Shelley lives close, so we walk. It's hot, but not hot enough to warrant a ride. Another way to save.

"I wish I could go with you to the wedding," she says. I'm not sure if that's a hint or not. "Ibiza? That sounds amazing."

"It's just another island. I'm over it already."

"Well, it sounds fun. I've never been to Europe. It's in Europe, right?"

I smile. "Yeah, Spain. I would take you with me if I had a plus one." And if I had enough money to afford my own room.

Shit.

Everything happened so fast, I didn't even think about sharing a room with Teagan again. The thought does something funny in my chest. I can't think about that right now.

"It's really stressing you out, huh?"

I shake my thoughts away. There's no point in worrying about the future. "It's over the top for no reason. I think they're trying to one-up our other friend's wedding from last summer." 

Last summer. Ugh, I'm thinking about it again. I should give up on thinking altogether. Insert dumbass joke here.

"Okay, so explain your friends to me again. The one getting married is . . ."

"Ryan."

"Yes, Ryan. I remember that. He's the whiny one." Her correctness makes me laugh. "Who got married last year?"

"Brett, but if you boil those two down, they're basically the same person." I smirk at the thought.

"How so?"

"Imagine a satirical depiction of a frat boy from movies and TV. They're that guy."

She giggles. I'm glad she enjoys me talking shit about my friends. "And who are the others? There are six of you, right?"

"Right. There's Jeremy, who just moved away with his boyfriend. We want to be mad about it, but Chet is one of the nicest people ever. Ritchie is the problematic one—guaranteed to get us into trouble everywhere we go. He and his girlfriend break up every two seconds, but after Vegas, I'm hoping they're done for good this time. Then—" I stop. Shelley looks at me expectantly. "Then there's Teagan."

"The one from the café?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my god, she is so pretty. And tall. Is she a model?"

I guess I've never considered she could be one. "Not that I know of."

"She's really nice," she remarks. I snort with laughter. "What? She's not?"

Teagan and nice don't go in the same sentence unless we're discussing her ass. "Not if you know her well enough. She's mean, bossy, rude most of the time, but that's needed in a group like ours."

"Sounds like it. The way you describe your friends reminds me of my last class. A lot of big personalities in those eight-year-olds. It was like preparing for a battle every morning."

"Yeah, that's about right."

My phone vibrates in my pocket again. When it keeps going, I pull it out and see it's Mom. Why is she calling me? When I miss it, I see her text.

Shelley turns to me and I realize we're already at her house. "Thanks for hanging out with me today," she says.

"Thanks for letting me."

Her little smile lingers, her eyes drift over me like I'm a work of art she enjoys but doesn't understand. She steps forward and wraps her arms around my waist. "Come upstairs with me," she whispers. Her tone does not suggest that she wants to have a beer and watch the game.

I hesitate. "Oh, uh . . ."

"I know we're just friends, but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun, right?" She runs her hands up and down my chest.

The hesitation strikes again. Am I considering saying no? When have I ever turned down sex?

Her lips are on mine before I can finish my thought.

Her kiss is different this time. I can feel the eagerness behind lips, the heaviness of her breath while she takes control. She moves her arms to drape over my shoulders. I move mine to her waist.

She ends the kiss, but she doesn't lean away. "Come on. Let's go upstairs."

"Yeah. Okay," I agree.

Inside, it's a quick walk down a hall. Shelley's apartment is old and small, but it has some charm and a separate bedroom. The second the door closes, her mouth is on mine again. The velocity of her kiss pushes me back against the wall. Her hands tug at my belt. Damn.

My body wakes up, my blood going to the places it should. My pocket starts vibrating again. I break the kiss and put my hand inside to silence it. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She takes my hands and pulls me with her into the next room. Her bedroom.

Things move quickly. Shirts come off, my fly goes down.

My newly gained decency screams at me. "I have to tell you something." This is new for me, and so uncomfortable. She looks at me. "I've had sex with someone recently. It was protected, but it was less than two weeks ago."

A beat passes before she says, "I appreciate you telling me that." Her smile widens when she sits on the edge of her bed. "I have some condoms in my drawer."

That went a million times better than expected.

I empty my pockets onto her nightstand and open the drawer. An unopened box sits inside. I rip the box open and tear off a single packet. She lays back and I crawl on top of her.

We're kissing, I'm unfastening her shorts, she's pushing mine down, and it happens.

I imagine Teagan. Plumper lips, longer legs wrapped around me, an aggressive hand tangling into my hair. But when I touch her, she feels different. And when I open my eyes, she's gone. 

Shelley frowns. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this right now." She looks surprised when I get up.

"Right now? You're leaving for Ibiza tomorrow," she reminds me.

She's right. "I am, yeah. But it's only for a long weekend. I'll be back Tuesday."

"Right," she sounds disappointed.

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, it's okay." She waves the thought away. "We're definitely not doing this if you don't want to."

"Thanks, Shell. I am sorry, though."

"It's okay. Seriously." After redressing and gathering my things, she sneaks in, "Teagan is the friend, isn't she?"

I turn back to her. "What?"

"She's the friend. The one whose brother you helped—the one you said you grew apart from."

I pause. "Yeah. She is."

She doesn't blink when she looks at me. "The way you looked at her, like she might run away. Like she had done it before." My silence says everything.  "She's more than a friend to you."

She doesn't sound accusing, just curious. What is it with women and their ability to know shit before I do? What shows on my face that gives away half of my secrets? ". . . I'm not really sure," I admit.

"But you want her to be?"

I don't know how to answer that. "Shelley, I'm sorry. I didn't go into this knowing I had feelings for her."

A little giggle leaves her. "Believe me, I can tell," she says with a dimmer version of her usual smile.

"I'll see you when I get back from the wedding?"

She nods. "Right." She grabs the front of my shirt and leans up to press her lips against mine. A goodbye kiss. "Bye, Heath."

That didn't sound like a see you later. "Bye, Shelley."

. . .

At the house, Mom still won't pick up her phone. She said to come over but never said why. Silas doesn't look concerned when I drive up and park. That calms my nerves a bit.

"Mom is here, right?" I ask him.

"Yes, she's inside." There's something quirky about his smile. Everyone's having a great time while I'm turning down sex and being confused as hell.

Inside, I hear Mom laughing with someone. It's not Dad. I round the corner and find her at the table near the kitchen where we usually sit. And next to her is Teagan.

My heart pounds. Why is she here?

"Hi," I interrupt.

They turn to me. Teagan's face drops but my mom's lights up. "Heath, you came to visit!" She stands to hug me.

I wrap her in my arms, relieved she seems good but curious about what's going on. "You kept calling me. I was worried."

"Oh, that must have been a butt dial."

"Did you butt text me, too?" I whisper. I know what she's doing.

She doesn't answer. "Teagan is here."

"Yeah, I see that. Why?"

Teagan looks at me, her doe eyes filled with guilt. Her hair is done for the trip. The abundance of tiny braids twisted into a looser one that hangs over her shoulder. The audacity she has, showing up looking that goddamn beautiful when I'm in peak fuck up mode.

"I need to go call your dad. You two should sit and talk." She kisses Teagan's cheek and whispers something to her. Teagan looks at her as if she whispered every nice thing her parents never told her as a kid.

Mom scurries away. Teagan and I laugh at her poorly-veiled attempt. She stands up taking a few slow strides toward me. "Hi," I greet her again.

"Hi."

"Why are you here?" I ask her.

"She said I should tell you, but I wasn't sure how. We, um . . ." She looks away from me for a second, and when she looks back, I swear I see tears in her eyes. "We just got back from therapy."

The words take a second to make sense. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I told her what was going on and asked her for the contact info of the psychiatrist you found. Then, I got nervous and . . . I asked her if she would go with me. She did."

I blink a few times. "You went to therapy?"

"Yeah."

"And she went. Just like that?"

She grins. "I've been told I can formulate a pretty convincing argument."

I smile at her joke, but inside I'm so fucking happy I could cry. "You should think about becoming a lawyer or something." 

She chuckles and makes her way to the foyer. I grab her hand and pull her back to me. She lands against my chest. 

I wrap my arms around her waist and whisper to her, "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. It's helping me, too."

"I know," I hold her tighter. "Thank you for going."

She nuzzles her head against my neck. "Shut up," she says with a tearful laugh, making me smile. 

I let her slip from my arms, watching her as she walks away. Instant regret.

"Teags, wait."

She turns back to me with a curious expression. All the things I want to say—all the words I wish I could fit together to explain how I feel—crumple beneath my fear.

"I, um . . . I'll see you tomorrow," I say.

She smirks. "See you tomorrow."

Watching her leave has me wanting to run after her. I can't tear my eyes from her, even when Silas appears in my peripheral.

"I believe the phrase you were looking for was 'I love you,'" he says, then strolls away.

_____

Any words for our man Silas? A few for Heath? 

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