Rekindled (17 page)

I laugh and shake my head. “Don’t feel bad, I’ve always been bad at keeping in touch, and I don’t actually use Facebook much.”

I tell her all about my life in Los Angeles. I tell her about Patty and how I gave up community college to become a hair stylist. I tell her that I ended up marrying Zach, but that we’re getting a divorce. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol that’s making me chatty, or if it’s that Mari is one of my oldest friends, even if I haven’t talked to her in years. Maybe that’s part of the appeal, knowing that no matter what I tell her, she’s leaving town by the end of summer, taking all my secrets with her. I’m debating on whether or not to tell her about the real reason I’m back when her phone begins to ring.

“Sorry,” she says shooting me an apologetic smile as she mouths
work
while holding the phone up to her ear. “Konichiwa, Yuki-San.”

I nod and finish off my drink, grateful when Shari appears with another one. Mari ends the call and puts her phone back in her purse.

“Everything OK?”

“No, Yuki is my Japanese client I was telling you about. Apparently she just got an email saying they pulled her from the fashion show. Will you absolutely hate me if I bail on you tonight and ask for a rain check?”

“Yes, Mari, I demand you stay here with me,” I say drily.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. Maybe we can do dinner in a couple days or something?” She pulls out a couple of twenty dollar bills and slides them towards me.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

“Okay, text me with your schedule and we can figure it out.” She leans down and gives me a quick hug before sauntering off towards the door.

Deciding that leaving now would be wasteful since Shari just bought me another martini a few minutes ago, I recline in my seat feeling awkwardly alone. During the decline of my marriage to Zach, I’d become accustomed to being alone while Jonah was in school, but it was one thing to go and run errands by myself, and something completely different to sit alone in a crowded bar.

I thought back to when I was twelve years old, and had planned out practically my entire life. Everything was so simple back then, back when I thought my future could be determined by the turn of a Magic Eight Ball, or a game of MASH. I’d spent hours sitting on my purple flowered bed with my journal and pen beside me, and my Magic Eight Ball gripped between my hands.
Will I become a successful doctor? Signs point to yes. Should I wear my new halter top to school tomorrow? My sources say no. Will I meet my Prince Charming? Without a doubt.
I was pretty certain if I asked it any questions now about my future the only reply I would get would be
reply hazy, try again.

The best perk to having Trista as my godmother is that she sells me ribs for half the price of the grocery store. With Jules off in New York visiting family, I agreed to pick up some ribs and meet the guys down by the lake for a bonfire. The past week has been absolute hell after they flew us out to California to help put down a fire up north, and then we took off to Colorado for a couple days right afterward. Good food and a couple of cold beers by the lake is exactly what I need to unwind.

The place is packed by the time I arrive, and I can hear the twang of electric guitars all the way from the parking lot. Slipping in through the back door, I say a quick hello to a couple of the guys working the line in the kitchen before heading out to the main area to find Tris. It doesn’t take me long to spot her, but my attention is diverted when I see Callie off in the corner by herself, staring absentmindedly into her glass.

Since she came by for dinner a couple weeks ago, we haven’t spoken much aside from saying “hi” whenever we saw each other on the street, or in a store. I hadn’t planned on staying at Red’s for long tonight, but now I see her all by herself, I can’t leave until I know she’s okay.

“Hey, are you here alone?” I realize she’s not in her work uniform, which means she either met or is supposed to meet someone here. The thought shouldn’t bother me, but for some reason I can’t kick the dull pain that comes with that thought.

“Mari met me here for a couple drinks, but she got called off for work stuff. I’m heading home right after I finish my martini.”

“She just left you here by yourself?”

“Yes, but I’m not two years old, I don’t need adult supervision wherever I go,” she quips. “Believe it or not, I can actually pick out my own clothes, and even drive a car!”

I roll my eyes at her and suppress a grin. I’d forgotten how sarcastic she could be sometimes. “Well, listen, since your plans for the evening were cut short, do you want to go to a bonfire with me? A few of the guys are throwing one down by the lake. Unless of course, you’d rather stay here and become a groupie.” I nod my head in the direction of the stage where a grungy looking guy is practically making out with the microphone and women are crowded around the stage with their hands outstretched as they scream his name.

“I don’t know, won’t it be weird if I don’t know anyone there?”

“You’ll know me and Matt, and I can introduce you to everyone else. Besides, the Callie I knew would never shy away from a bonfire. Unless, of course, you’re worried about losing at Twister again,” I challenge, and watch as indignation flares across her face for a split second.

“The only reason I lost last time was because you cheated.”

“I did not.”

“You did too. I’m fairly sure you’re not allowed to tickle the other person so that they collapse while laughing.”

“It’s not my fault your foot and my hand had to share a green dot.”

“Tate Corbin, you’re a liar and a cheat, and you know it,” she says in a serious tone, but she can’t control the corners of her lips twitching.

I do my best to look offended. “I take severe umbrage at that statement, but don’t worry, I promise not to touch you.” The second the words are out of my mouth I wish I could retract them because just the idea of feeling her skin again leaves my mouth feeling like I’ve just swallowed a ball of cotton. “So what do you say?”

She shifts her weight and stares at the floor for a second, biting down on the corner of her bottom lip. She sighs before dragging her gaze back to mine and giving me a small nod. “Okay, but I need to go home and change first.” She turns her head and looks out towards the front door. “My taxi is here, so do you want me to just meet you at the beach?”

“You took a taxi down here?”

“Yeah, Caleb is watching Jonah and I didn’t want to risk having him wake Jonah up to come and get me, and since I was planning on drinking, I didn’t want to drive myself.”

I nod in agreement. “You know you can always call me if you need a ride somewhere.”

“I appreciate it, but I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“You wouldn’t be. I promise.”

“I don’t even have your phone number.”

I wince with her words, because even though I know they weren’t meant as anything more than a statement, I can’t help but notice the tinge of hurt behind them. The unsaid accusation of when I changed my number, officially making it impossible for her to try to reach me anymore. Plucking my phone from my back pocket, I quickly add her number to my contacts and then send her a text so she’ll have mine.

Me:
Call this number if you ever need anything. I mean it.

She smiles down at her phone while reading my text, and I have to force myself to look away because the sight of her is putting thoughts in my head that shouldn’t be there. So instead, I turn my attention to the stage where a woman who looks like she’s in her mid-forties wearing a skin-tight leopard print tank top and red heels has climbed onto the stage and Trista is yelling at her that she has three seconds to get down or she’s going to go up there and throw her out by her cheap-ass extensions.

“Okay, I should probably go before the taxi takes off without me,” she says putting her phone back in her purse. “Where should I meet you?”

“Text me when you’re ready and I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

She shoulders her way through the crowd before exiting the building and I watch her get into the taxi. I tell myself it’s to make sure she gets in safely, but when I turn and see Trista watching me with a worried expression, I know I’m not fooling anyone.

“Hey, Tris.” I reach the bar and watch her fill a couple of glasses with beer before sliding them onto a server’s tray.

“What are you doing, Tater?” she asks as she grabs a few bills left on the bar and quickly rings them into the register.

“I’m picking up my to-go order. Matt called it in an hour ago for the ribs.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

I know that’s not what she was referring to, but I don’t honestly have an answer for the real question.

“You’re playing with fire, boy.” She shakes her head. “Did you forget that you’re engaged?”

I narrow my eyes at her and rub my hand over my chin, the prickly stubble reminding me that I probably should have shaved before coming out tonight. “No, I didn’t forget,” I bite out. “But I’m not doing anything wrong. Callie and I are just friends. I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I?”

She shrugs nonchalantly as she uses a rag to wipe down the bar space in front of her. “Sure you are, but anyone who knows you, knows that you aren’t going to be able to be
just
her friend. You spent ten years loving that girl, and another seven hating her.”

“And? What’s your point?”

“My point baby boy, is that those are two sides of the same coin. You didn’t hate her because you stopped loving her. You hated her because you couldn’t.”

A blonde waitress swings by with three large bags filled with my order and places it on the bar, giving me a smile, completely oblivious to the tension radiating between me and Trista. I pull out a hundred-dollar bill and slide it over to her. “Keep the change,” I say, and wait until she walks away to turn my attention back to Trista. Grabbing the bags, I drag them off the counter and square my shoulders. “Tris, I love you, and you know you’re like a mom to me, so I’m only going to say this once. Callie and I are just friends, and if you have an opinion that thinks otherwise, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself.”

By the time Callie and I make it to the bonfire, there are at least twenty people hanging around. Out in the center of the strip of sand is a large pit where flames lick at the air, crackling whenever someone throws another stick in. The weather is perfect tonight, warm enough for the girls to wear shorts, but cool enough that sitting around the fire is comforting. The inky black sky is dotted with stars, and the moon is full, casting a romantic glow on the faces that are laughing and having a good time.