Page 36 of Forever & Always You

Buck doesn’t need me back at the bar on Monday, so I stay in Wilmington for an extra day.

Austin has to work, of course. He leaves a lingering kiss on my forehead as he slips out of bed and I watch him through a sleepy haze as he gets ready for the day.

It’s incredibly hot watching him buckle his belt, secure his tie, spray some cologne.

I love men, and I especially enjoy this one.

I was so close to losing him yesterday that waking up with him this morning feels extra joyful.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay by yourself today?” he asks, straightening out some creases in his shirt. “Call me if you need anything.”

I’m on my stomach, face pressed into the pillows as I turn to give him a lazy smile. “I’ll be fine. Have a nice day at work, darling.”

Austin shrugs on his jacket and adjusts his watch. He smolders his eyes at me across the dim room. “You look so good with your ass in the air like that.”

I purse my lips. “You’re the boss. Take a sick day and come back to bed.”

“If only I could,” he says with a groan. He crosses the bedroom, leans down to kiss me once more, then heads off to work to study stock prices on behalf of the wealthy.

I snuggle up in the spot he’s vacated and nap for another hour before I drag myself out of bed.

I’m not sure exactly what I’m supposed to do all day without my best friend, but I start off with consuming a monstrous bowl of cereal in front of the giant TV in the living room, and then I decide to make myself useful.

I wrestle fresh sheets onto the bed, throw on a load of laundry, vacuum the carpets.

I even, remarkably for the first time in my entire life, iron.

As I hang up Austin’s crease-free shirts in his closet, I stare at my nails.

They are in desperate need of a manicure.

And Sasha Tate requires an apology.

When she showed up at that dive bar a month ago, it was another reminder of the awful way I used to treat people.

We were good friends throughout high school, yet the second I left for Duke, I grew too big for my own boots and abandoned my old friends in the dust. The new friends I made at Duke weren’t even all that nice, and when you push everyone away, you end up with no one at all.

I turn to the internet once again to help hunt down the ghosts of my past. I found Austin within minutes, and I find Sasha just as fast. Her salon’s website is the first result that pops up when I search “Sasha Tate Beautician Wilmington NC.”

I call the number and pick anxiously at my cuticles as I listen to the dial tone, before a friendly voice answers with an upbeat hello.

“Sasha? It’s Gabby,” I say, then clear my throat. “Gabrielle McKinley.”

“Gabby! What’s up?”

I stormed out of the bar the last time I saw her, thanks to Austin being mean, so I hope she doesn’t think I’ve turned a little bit crazy over the years. “You’re probably fully booked, but I don’t suppose you could squeeze me in today? My nails need some major TLC.”

“Can you make it down here within the next fifteen minutes?”

“I’ll leave right now. See you soon!”

I double-check the salon address before hopping in my car and heading downtown.

At the worst possible time for distraction as I’m hopelessly attempting to parallel park (not my forte), my mom calls.

I haven’t seen her since the shelter’s adoption event, but I have attempted to text her even though our messages are just a thread of agonizing small talk.

I answer the call on speaker. “Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?”

“Zachary came by this morning,” she says, and instantly my stomach drops. “His eye is black and blue. Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Gabrielle?”

I put my car in park and squeeze my phone in my hand. My mind races, unaware of just how much Zach has shared with Mom about what went down at the beach yesterday. I’m certainly not going to fall into the trap of telling her myself, so I simply say, “No, I don’t think so.”

My mother tuts, as she so often does. “You know I’m not fond of that Austin Pierce, and this is exactly why. Fighting with your bother in public .?.?. That’s disgraceful! He seems like a terrible influence and that’s not what you need when you’re trying to get back on your feet.”

“Zach threw the first punch, Mom,” I point out, but a trickle of relief works its way through me. If Zach had told Mom the truth about the secret trust Dad left behind for Austin, that would absolutely be the focus of this conversation, and it’s not, which means that secret is still safe for now.

“Are you sure, Gabrielle?”

“I witnessed it with my very own eyeballs, so yes, I’m sure.”

“Now why would he have done that?” she questions.

“There was a little misunderstanding,” I lie. “Austin’s allowed to defend himself. Definitely not a bad influence. But look, I’ve got to go. I’m catching up with an old friend from high school. Don’t stress too much, Mom. Bye!”

I cut off the call before she has a chance to respond and head across the street toward the salon.

It’s in a nice area of downtown, must cost an absolute bomb in commercial rent, and has an Instagram-worthy aesthetic of baby pinks and silvers.

Sasha must be doing pretty well for herself, and I feel a twitch of jealousy that, once again, it’s clear I’ve fallen so many steps behind in life compared to my peers.

A bell tinkles as I push open the door.

“Perfect timing!” Sasha says chirpily, bouncing over to greet me. The scent of the most gorgeous perfume follows her. “How are you? Come sit down.”

She leads me over to the nail station and I nervously sit down opposite her. We exchange the usual pleasantries as she gets to work on buffing my nails in preparation for a French manicure, and then I take a breath and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sasha glances up at me, her soft features frowning with confusion. “For what?”

“I’m sorry for ignoring your attempts to keep in touch after we graduated,” I apologize.

I drop my gaze to my hands on the table, one held by Sasha as she works.

“I was in a Duke bubble and it wasn’t right of me to treat the people I grew up with like you were all disposable.

We had a lot of fun together back in the day, and I just wanted you to know that you didn’t do anything wrong—it was just me being a bitch.

That was kind of my thing, I guess. Didn’t graduate with a sparkling reputation, did I? ”

Sasha’s hands pause over mine and I lift my eyes to meet hers. “I appreciate that, Gabby, but honestly? I wasn’t much better. God, I lie awake at nights sometimes and cringe when I think of some of the things I said and did.”

“If we look back now and regret it, does that mean we’ve changed?”

Sasha nods with a small, sympathetic smile. “I’d like to think so. Self-reflection and all that, right? These days when I run into people we went to high school with, I make the effort to be friendly. Everyone is pretty cool, you know.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Like Austin Pierce?”

“Yeah. Like Austin,” Sasha agrees, and I swear she bites back a sheepish smile as she returns to working on my nails. “What was all that about in the bar last month?”

“Austin and I were best friends in high school,” I say, and that now feels like a smug brag rather than the confession it would have been once upon a time.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, not in school,” I clarify. “Outside, in private, where no one would know. I thought I’d suffer the same fate as him if I dared defend him .

.?. so I didn’t. He never spoke to me again after senior prom, but can you really blame him after the things I said and did that night?

But we’re back in touch now, because in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m trying to apologize for the old Gabrielle’s mistakes. ”

“If that scene in the bar is anything to go by, it doesn’t seem like he’s buying your apologies .?.?.”

I manage a laugh. “It was definitely rough at first, but now we’re .

.?.” My words trail off, because I’m not sure just how honest I should be here.

Austin had a previous fling with Sasha, and as much as the old Gabby would fly off the handle into a jealous cat fight, the more mature and improving Gabby knows their history is none of my business.

“It’s going really well now. This time around, it’s more than just a friendship. ”

I hold my breath as I register Sasha’s reaction, but she only lifts her brows in surprise and grins. “Aww! It’s like friends to enemies to lovers! That’s my favorite trope in romance books. Can you keep me updated on how this progresses? I want to know!”

My smile mirrors hers. “Then how about brunch and mimosas sometime?”

*

Since I’m downtown anyway, I swing by Austin’s office with a tray of iced lattes and a box of donuts.

Helen on the front desk greets me when I arrive, though her smile is bashful and her eye contact minimal.

It’s been a while since that afternoon she found Austin and me parading around the office semi-naked, but it’s the first time I’ve seen her again, and clearly there’s a lingering embarrassment.

Though if anyone should be embarrassed, it’s me.

And I’m not, because I’m too happy to care.

“Hi, Helen!” I say, sliding the coffees and donuts onto the front desk. “I brought these for you guys. Is Austin with a client right now? I won’t hang around.”

“Oh, how lovely. Thank you, Gabrielle,” Helen says. She plucks one of the coffees from the tray and clicks around on her computer. “He is, but he should be wrapping up soon. You’re more than welcome to wait around!”

“Perfect! How’s Carly Buck the Cactus doing?” I point over my shoulder at the cactus that sits in the waiting area, and Helen laughs. “She looks a little .?.?. shriveled. Does she need watered?”

“She definitely needs watered.”

While I wait for Austin to finish up in his meeting, I douse Carly Buck the Cactus in water and readjust the spread of finance magazines on the couches, musing with Helen about my upcoming re-enrollment to Duke.

When Austin walks his client out, his eyes find mine the same way they did two months ago when he first encountered me in his office’s reception.

Except now, I am not an anxious bundle of nerves, and Austin doesn’t spiral into rage.

His smile is gorgeous and vivacious and I hate that I never made him smile like that in public when we were kids.

“I brought coffee! And donuts,” I announce, closing the distance between us and mindlessly reaching for his hand because I crave the feeling of his fingers brushing mine. “I don’t know what your associates like to drink, so I just got everyone iced lattes. Though this one is decaf for you.”

I pass him a coffee and his gaze shines with appreciation, because I may have forgotten so many of the little things from our childhood, but I’m trying to remember all of the small details now.

Like the fact that he drinks decaf and he hates maple syrup and he prefers his showers lukewarm and he wears the green running shoes on Sundays but the white pair every other day.

It’s easy to memorize someone when you care this deeply for them.

“Thanks, Gabby,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple and setting my skin ablaze. “This is really great of you. What are you doing downtown?”

“I got my nails done,” I say, wiggling my fingers in front of his face to show off my manicure. It breaks my heart that by the end of the week, they’ll most likely be chipped from working the bar again. “I had a really nice chat with Sasha.”

Austin’s joyful expression falters with surprise and a touch a panic. “Oh? You caught up with Sasha?”

“Don’t look so scared. We aren’t going to fight over you,” I tease, rolling my eyes. Though if I had to, I would. “I wanted to say sorry to her for not staying in touch after high school. We’re going to grab brunch sometime. See, now I have two friends! Look at me; breaking out of Loserville.”

Austin’s gorgeous smile returns. “I’m really proud of you.”

And there it is again, that flip of my stomach. Those are my favorite words in the entire world, and it makes me want to be the best person I can possibly be just to hear Austin say he’s proud of me for the rest of my life.

If we weren’t in the office right now, I’d snuggle into his chest, but I don’t want to subject Helen to any more PDA, so I keep my hands to myself and blush fiercely instead, like only Gabrielle McKinley can do.

“I’ll get going,” I say. “I’ll make dinner for you getting home later. Though it’ll probably be something super simple like mac ’n’ cheese, but it’ll be made with love.”

Austin arches an eyebrow. Helen lifts her head from the front desk. I physically cringe and pray the ground will swallow me whole. Did I really just slip the word love into that sentence?

“Okay, I’m leaving now,” I say, retreating backward toward the door. “Enjoy the coffee. Enjoy the donuts. Make your clients lots of money. Bye!”

Austin’s grin tracks me all the way out the door.