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“Try to at leastactlike you’re my dog, okay?”
My eyes flick up when a light comes on outside the green cabin, illuminating the red decking and spilling down the steps, fading as it gets closer to the dock. A few beats later, I hear Busy singing and Junie laughing, and I smile, imagining them dancing around in their living room.
Sydney’s head perks up at the sound of Junie’s voice, and she looks at me, silently asking for permission. I should take her inside. I shouldalsodo a better job of trying to find out how she’s still getting out on the days I leave her at home, but I have remained almost gleefully ignorant.
“Go ahead,” I mumble, watching as she leaps off my deck and heads excitedly over to Busy’s, where she stands at their screen door waiting, her tail wagging.
I remain in my seat, trying to pretend I’m not itching for an excuse to go over there and bring her back home.
“Sinny!” Junie’s sweet voice cries out, and then I hear the screen door open.
Busy steps outside, letting Sydney into the house, a smile on her face when she glances my way.
“She heard Junie and ran right over,” I call out, chuckling. “I’m not even sure she’s my dog anymore, to be honest.”
“She’s definitely Junie’s dog now,” Busy replies, letting the screen door close and crossing a few feet toward me. “Can’t say I hate it, especially when Junie needs to run off some of her energy. Grandma decided to give her a sugar cookie about an hour ago.” She holds up her hands, her fingers crossed. “Hoping it’ll wear off any minute.”
She turns and looks out at the water, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her skirt, and goddamn she’s beautiful. I try not to notice. Really, I do. But it’s nearly impossible not to see it on a regular night. With several more beers than normal warming my blood, I don’t have a chance at keeping my eyes to myself.
God, I wish things were different, wish I could hold her and love her and protect her the way she deserves. I hate that I broke something between us, something I didn’t realize I wanted or needed from someone until I had it and then it was gone.
I hate that I’m broken, too.
“I’m sorry,” I say, just loud enough for her to hear it.
And I know she does, because her body grows rigid.
“You don’t have to apologize, Reid,” she replies, turning to give me that same tight smile.
“But I do. Because…things aren’t the same, and that’s my fault.”
I feel like a whiny shit saying that, but it’s the fucking truth. I want my friend back. I want those soft smiles and easy conversations and the laughter. God, I want thelaughterback.
“It’s nobody’s fault, Reid.” She shakes her head and crosses her arms, looking back out to the water. “It’s just life. We’re still friends.”
Friends.
God, I fucking hate that word, hate it with depths I didn’t know I had, but I can’t be upset at her for it. She’s doing what any woman in her position would do: protecting herself, walling off her heart from me because I made her believe she had to. In reality, as herfriend, I should be proud of her for what she’s doing.
Instead, I’m stewing in my own agony, my own desire, my own…fear.
That’s really what it is: fear. It’s fear of losing her as a friend because I can’t provide her with more, and the worst part is there’s nothing I can do to change it.
After a little while, when the giggles stop, Busy pokes her head back inside then disappears, only to reappear a few minutes later with Sydney trotting along at her side…and a bottle of wine in her hand.
“They were snuggled up in Junie’s bed together,” she says, crossing over to my deck then dropping down in the chair next to mine. “It was super cute.”
Busy takes a sip from her wine bottle then extends it in my direction. I blink twice, wondering if maybe I had more to drink than I first thought. Is she really here right now, shooting the shit like nothing’s wrong?
I reach out and take the bottle from her hand then tilt it back for my own sip.
“I’m thinking it might be time to get a couch,” she says, settling into her seat and lifting her bare feet up to rest on the small coffee table, crossing her legs at the ankle. “I’m kind of done sitting on the ground, you know?”
Because I’ve had a few drinks, it takes a minute to understand what she’s doing, what she’s giving me. And when I realize, my heart breaks a little bit.
Busy is giving me her friendship. Opening up her heart to me again, even though I don’t deserve it.
“I think that’s a great choice. Especially because I’m starting to have a hard time getting up off your floor. These knees aren’t what they used to be.”
