Page 8 of Blush Crush

Whitney is the closest I ever came to a real relationship—if a relationship that young even counts. Our moms were best friends, so we practically grew up together. Everyone always acted like we were inevitable, like it had all been decided before either of us had a choice.

We avoided dating for years because we both knew what it would turn into. If we tried, it wouldn’t just be fun or casual. It would be serious. It would be a family thing. So we waited until college, when it felt safer to find out if there was actually something there.

But by the end of junior year, we both realized the same thing: we’d spent our whole lives being told we were meant to be together, when in reality, we weren’t meant for anything at all.

By graduation, we were both seeing other people. There’s no ill will between us, but we didn’t keep in touch. Some things are better left where they belong.

“Really? How’s she doing?”

Nora stares at me for a beat before answering. “She’s uh…she’s engaged.”

My eyes widen. “Wow. Well, good for her.”

“You actually sound like you mean that.”

“Because I do. Why wouldn’t I be happy for her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because she’s the only serious girlfriend you’ve ever had. I thought maybe you’d be upset or something. She’s the one who got away.”

Jesus, not this bullshit. Sometimes I forget how much of a romantic Nora really is. She still believes inthe one, in soulmates. I don’t. I think there’s chemistry, and sometimes it’s great, and sometimes it fades. Everything else is something Hollywood sold women so they would keep hoping for more and spend their lives perpetually disappointed by men.

“She is not the one who got away. We broke up like ten years ago. Don’t you think if I wanted her back, I would’ve tried at some point since then?”

“You really don’t still think about her?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Honestly? I haven’t thought much about her since.”

Nora folds her arms, chewing on her bottom lip as if I’ve personally offended her. Being forgotten has always been her deepest fear, and it skews how she sees things.

“I love you but you’re kind of a dick.”

“If it doesn’t work out with someone, you’re not supposed to stay hung up on them. They’re not in your life for a reason.”

Her eyes turn down, a swallow working roughly against her throat. “Right.” She laughs, hollow and strained. “Obviously.”

“Where did you see her? I didn’t think she lived around here.”

“She doesn’t. She lives in Portland. I stopped at the winery to see Mom, and she was showing Whit around. Apparently, it’s one of the places she’s considering getting married.”

That gets my attention. “We don’t do weddings.”

“I’m aware. But you know how Mom is.”

I do know. She’s a lover and a giver and would do anything to make someone happy. Like hosting a wedding for an old family friend even though we’re not in the business of doing so. I have no interest in taking that on as a company. It’s profitable, but would require a new business model, and I am and always will be an advocate for making good wine. I will not sacrifice the quality of our product for more money.

“Well, fuck. I guess I’ll have to have a talk with Mom. Thanks for the heads up.” I rub between my brows, a headache hovering at the edge.

The door creaks open, drawing our attention as Levi walks in.

He gives me a bro nod, which I return because, as far as he knows, we’re best buds. And I’ll keep it that way until Nora gives me a reason not to.

“Ready to go, babe?” Levi asks. “We don’t want to miss our reservation.”

Nora stands, already reaching for her purse. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

I push off the desk. “I should get out of here, then. Don’t let me keep you.”

Levi opens the door for her, but I’m already heading out. “You kids have fun.”