My Favorite Souvenir(71)

I didn’t want him to uproot his life for me, since every day it became clearer that things might not pan out for us. “Where would you live?”

“I’m sure I could get an apartment somewhere near you.” He flashed a sheepish smile. “Unless you wanted a roomie, maybe.”

Seeing the look on my face, Brady chuckled. “Okay, so not ready to be roomies yet. I get it. I can start looking for my own place—unless you don’t even want me in the same state as you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s just a lot. It’s a big change. Can you give me some time to think about it?”

He nodded and tried to pretend I hadn’t hurt his feelings, though it was clear I had. “Sure.”

We made it through dinner without any more major bumps in the road. But the pressure I felt was enormous. Brady wanted to change his life for me. It wasn’t fair to let him do that if things were coming to an end. So while we made conversation and even laughed a few times, our situation really weighed on my shoulders.

After a delicious meal, we cleaned up together. Brady washed the dishes, and I dried. It might’ve been the first time I’d ever seen him use a sponge. At one point, I was standing in the dining room, wiping down the counter that separated the dining and kitchen areas, and Brady was on the other side, wrapping a tray of food in foil.

I found myself staring. Could I be with him again?

Did I love him still?

If I didn’t, had I ever?

Can you just fall out of love in a few months?

I remembered the day I met him. I’d been taking photos at a Coldplay concert. One of my duties was to snap pictures of the audience. Usually I’d find some girl on a guy’s shoulders with her arms in the air, or a group of guys thrashing around in a mosh pit—something that captured the essence of the show. But that day, when I was scanning through the audience with my lens, I landed on a cute guy staring right back at me. He smiled and waved. I snapped a few pictures just because he was so easy on the eyes and smiled back. But the concert was coming to an end, so a few minutes later I went backstage. I’d forgotten all about the cute guy by the time I finished for the night. After the concert, I stuck around to hang out with the band and take some candid photos while they celebrated. The parking lot was long empty by the time I walked out at nearly two AM.

Except for Brady. There he was, standing right at the front door, waiting.

We wound up going to a nearby diner and talking until the sun came up that morning. When I’d asked him how he knew I was still there, since he’d waited for so many hours, he’d shrugged and said he didn’t. But he was willing to put in the time on the off chance he’d get to see me again.

Lost in my own little world reminiscing, I didn’t even realize I was still staring until Brady smiled. “What are you thinking about over there?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on. I know you better than that. You were somewhere else.”

I shook my head. “I was just thinking about the night we met.”

Brady smiled and tossed the dishtowel on the kitchen counter. “Best night of my life.”

“You waited for me for a really long time.”

He turned off the kitchen light and came around to the dining room side of the counter. The candles were the only light now. Brady cupped my cheeks in his hands. “You’re worth waiting for, Hazel.”

My heart swelled. Brady was a really sweet guy. “Thank you for a nice dinner.”

He leaned in, dipping his head, as if he was about to kiss me.

I flattened my hands on his chest, stopping him. “Brady, no.”

“Oh come on, babe. Just one kiss. For my birthday.”

I didn’t want to be a jerk, but I also didn’t feel right about kissing him. So when he leaned in again—this time ignoring my shove at his chest—and his lips covered mine, I turned my head.

“Brady, I said no.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s just a kiss, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done it a million times.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to lead you on.”

He cupped my cheeks tighter. “You won’t. I get it. Just a kiss. I won’t try to cop a feel or get in your pants. I promise.” He lowered his head yet again and pressed his lips to mine.

“Brady, stop!” I pushed him hard this time.

He stumbled back and raised his hands in the air, showing me his palms. “What the fuck, Hazel?”

“I told you not to kiss me.”

His face twisted in anger. “Well then stop sending me mixed fucking signals. You’re staring at me and thinking of the day we met, but I can’t kiss my girlfriend of four years on my damn birthday?”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Whatever you want me to call you. How about friends without benefits? Does that work? Or should I be more specific? Woman I wine and dine but don’t get to sixty-nine?”

I looked down. “I should go.”

Brady stepped in front of me. “No, tell me. I want to know. What are we, Hazel? Because I’m really not understanding what we’re doing. You somehow think we can just be friends. But you know what? We were never friends. I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you, and I don’t know how to be anything else.”