Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(9)

Confused, my expression hardened. My mind warred with the memories of Madison in the past and the person sitting in front of me. Which one was she offering?

I blew out a breath, forcing myself to relax. I didn’t have to do shit. I did what I came here to do.

“I don’t know, Madison. I don’t know what you mean by ‘better’ or ‘great.’ To be honest, I’m having a hard time picturing us as friends. And just so you know, I have a girlfriend. If that’s where you’re going with this, it won’t work.”

She swallowed hard, unfazed. “I do understand. Please think about it. I wasn’t rotten to only you but to a lot of people. I don’t have many friends. I’m trying to make new ones. Having you as a friend would mean a lot. You’re one of my oldest.”

Dammit. Her plea tugged at my heart and it pissed me the f*ck off. “I’ll think about it. It’s all I can promise.” I stood from the table. “I need to go.” I would’ve told her it was great seeing her again, but it wasn’t.

She nodded. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“You’re welcome.” I left before she decided she needed a hug or some other crazy shit. She’d rattled me enough as it was.

***

We’d stopped at the grocery store for a few last-minute items, then hit the road in my Jeep, heading out to the campground. Hannah kept bouncing and fidgeting, full of nervous energy. Yet every time I took my eyes off the road and glanced at her, she beamed one of her megawatt smiles.

“Excited?” Yeah, I know. Master of the obvious.

She nodded. “Totally. Will we go for a hike? Will there be elk? Do they have different pine trees than in the city?”

I laughed. “We can do whatever you want to do. And I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out.”

A short time into our drive, Hannah finally settled into her seat and gazed out the side window at the passing rural scenery.

“So how did the meeting with Madison go?”

Good question.

I still hadn’t figured that shit out. “Weird.” My tone dropped, heavy.

She angled her upper body toward me, tilting her head. “Weird how?”

I let out a sigh. “She was humble, apologetic. I don’t ever remember her being so...vulnerable. I’m not sure what I’d expected, but it wasn’t that.”

“Apologetic? Did she admit to making the phone call to the vendor?” Hannah wrapped her hand around the chrome gearshift and looked down, running her thumbnail along the diagram grooves in the top.

I shook my head. “No. She wanted to make amends. She apologized for hurting me. Said she’d been to rehab and therapy. Asked if we could be friends.”

“Rehab and therapy for what?” Hannah’s tone was neutral, inquisitive.

Warning bells went off inside my head. I hadn’t played out how the discussion with Hannah might go—how much I needed to share to remain honest—but I suddenly wished I’d given more thought to it. This couldn’t possibly go well.

“Sexual addiction.” It’s always best to just rip off the Band-Aid, right?

Silence.

I glanced at her.

Her brows were deeply furrowed. “She had a sexual addiction?”

I shrugged. “Apparently. Although, it’s news to me.”

“Because you didn’t have a lot of sex?”

Fuck. In what universe could this ever go well? My jaw clenched. “No, we had sex.”

“A lot?”

“A normal amount.” There. Safe, and true. But looking back, if I was honest, it was a little wild and desperate most of the time. “But remember, she was cheating on me. And I didn’t ask for the details. Didn’t want them. Still don’t.”

Hannah straightened back in her seat, facing forward. “Sooo…she couldn’t help it? That’s her reason why?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Do you believe her?”

I snorted. “Hell, I don’t know what to believe. That woman had me believing I was in love with her. That I wanted to marry her. And all the while she had a sexual addiction and was sleeping around to scratch her uncontrollable itch. I grew up with Madison. We were kids who all played on the same playground together. She’s always been strong, assertive, independent. She’s strived to be the best, to win. Never once, in all the years I’ve known her, has she admitted to having a fault. Or apologized.”

“Sounds a lot like you, the strong, assertive part.”

“Yeah. We were similar in our personalities. Determined, fearless, driven. Gunning to succeed. We were longtime friends, and our lives were compatible in so many ways. Only I had no clue hers came with a closet full of guys.”

“I’m nothing like that.” Her voice had dropped low.

I gave her a hard look until she glanced up at me. Reaching over, I grasped her hand. “You are driven to be successful in a creative way, which I love. Everything you are draws me toward you. You’re a gorgeous, petite ball of fire who brightens a room the moment you walk in.”

She gave me another one of those smiles, then leaned over the console, as far as the seatbelt would allow, and kissed my ear, lingering there for a moment with her lips. “Thank you. You want to know what makes me brighten when I walk into a room?”