Repeat(38)

She glares back at me.

“So what? I should just move to Alaska? Would that suit you?”

“I was going to suggest somewhere a little farther, at least the Yukon. But Alaska might be okay.”

Our drinks arrive and thank fuck for that. My throat is parched, my hackles riled, and my head even more confused than before. I down half of the glass in one gulp, the heavy tasting-room temperature aged grape juice going down a treat. Much better than whiskey. Tessa apparently feels much the same since she also throws back a good portion of her wine. Next I text Ed to tell him something’s come up so I’ll find my own way home today and not to worry.

“Look,” I say, diving straight back in, “It’s great that he has friends who care so much about him. But this is still none of your business.”

Her lips are an unforgiving line. “You didn’t see him after the breakup. You wrecked him.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I wrecked me too.”

“I’m not joking. I’ve never seen him like that before and I do not wish to ever again.”

My shoulders tense. Maybe it’s the thought of Ed hurting. Or maybe it’s the hate I’m facing. Either way, perfect excuse to drink more wine. “Why do you think I offered to move out of his place? I could see it wasn’t working. That he wasn’t happy.”

“And I’m supposed to thank you for behaving like a half-decent human for two seconds?”

“How about just acknowledging that he’s an adult who can make his own choices?”

She casts the ceiling a pained glance before drinking more wine, all while signaling to the waiter for another round. “Grown-ass men are idiots. How have you not discovered this yet?”

I laugh.

“Seriously?”

“Look, Tessa, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you,” I say. “And I have no intention of hurting Ed. I’m not . . . that’s not something I want to see happen ever again.”

She scoffs, sitting back and crossing her arms.

“I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“You’re not going to get out of his life,” she says, her words jagged and sharp.

“Let me check I’m following you on this.” My voice matches her harsh tone perfectly. “Previously, you hated me because I broke up with Ed, believing that he’d cheated on me. Now you’re pissed off with me for staying with him and believing that he didn’t. You’ll excuse me for not upending my world on the basis of your current mood. It’s not your choice to make.”

She shakes her head. “Give me strength. Anytime now he’ll be back to chasing after your ass. He can’t help himself when it comes to you. You’re like an itch under his skin.”

I’ve never been compared to a rash before, yet it doesn’t sound like a wholly bad thing. “Really?”

“Stop smiling. This is not good.”

“Sorry.”

“God, look at you, acting all cute and dumb. Do you really believe this works on me?” she asks, head cocked. “Or is this honestly who you think you are now?”

I finish off my wine. “I’m still figuring out who I am. But whatever I decide, you hate me and think I’m full of shit. Message received loud and clear. In the future, though, if you want to rant at me, can you stay the hell away from my job? Text me, I’ll meet you somewhere. I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind?” she repeats, disbelieving.

“Whatever. It’s not like I have much of a social life.” I shrug, turning to scope out the bar. “Why are they taking so long with our drinks?”

Tessa sips the last of her wine, assessing me over the rim of her glass. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“I’d have expected you to be storming off all butt hurt by now. There’s a reason why he always treated you like a precious doll.”

“Why should I storm off?” I ask. “No offense, but I don’t know you. Your opinion doesn’t really mean a hell of a lot to me. Ed says you and I used to be close, though those days are clearly over.”

“Damn right they are. Any trust I had in you is long gone and you destroyed it.”

“That time at Ed’s place, you said I tried to drag you into the breakup. I am sorry that happened.”

“Save it.”

“All right,” I say. “You really think Ed still wants me?”

“Men just follow wherever their dicks lead them and his is like a compass needle when it comes to you.”

Hope flares up inside me despite my best efforts. I think I’d like to be his true north. But no, that’s a bad idea. Our history is beyond complicated. On the other hand, however, I’d dearly love the chance to crawl all over him naked. I mean, we must have done it hundreds of times. Maybe more. Afternoon sex. Drunk sex. Sunday morning sex. Angry sex. Lazy sex. Shower sex. Post argument make-up sex. And who knows what else? It seemed beyond unfair that I could have such a history and not enjoy the memories of it.

“What did you do to your hair?” asks Tessa, before nodding to the waiter who is placing full glasses in front of us.

“I cut it myself. I like it shorter.” We each pick up our new drinks. I hold mine out. “So here’s to not being friends.”