Page 84 of Meant to Be

“Oh, hi, sorry!” he blushes and looks to the floor, turning his back to me. I almost glare at him. I want him to look at me. I want him to have trouble tearing his eyes away. I want him to struggle to keep his hands off me.

“Won’t be a second.”

I throw on a floral dress and pull my hair into a high pony. Nick is dressed in pale shorts and a casual white polo shirt, looking like he might be about to attend a lunch at the country club. I think of Harley’s black shirt and dark jeans, my eyes scanning the room once more as if he might have left something else here. I notice the empty bottle of whisky by the lounge and quickly kick it underneath on my way past.

Nick hovers near the door and for some reason, the space suddenly feels too small and I need to get out.

“Hi,” he says again when I appear by his side. He curls an arm around me and gently kisses my cheek. Soft, fragile, friendly. Just like always. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Yourself?”

“Really great.”

“Why really great?”

He shrugs. “I’m always really great.”

“Where are you taking me?” I grab my bag and keys, before locking the front door behind me. “Oh wait. There’s only one place.” The bitterness drips from my voice before I can help myself. I don’t miss the sideway frown I receive from Nick. I suck in a quick breath of air, trying to get my overthinking mind to relax.

“What did you get up to last night?” he asks.

I keep my face neutral. “Not much.”

“How’s work?”

“It’s good. Steady. A little dull compared to what I’m used to.”

Like everything.

“I’m sure you will get used to it.” He smiles.

“And you? How’s work for you?”

“Can’t complain.”

When I sit in the passenger seat, I pick at my fingernails. I feel bored already and we technically haven’t left my house. My mind drifts, wondering what Harley is up to. Is he working today? What does he do when he isn’t working?

“Are you going to get that?”

“Hmm?” I ask and see Nick’s eyes are looking at my lit-up phone screen. I’m so used to the vibrations now that it hardly registers. “Oh. No, I’m not.” I lock the phone and gaze back out the window.

“Is someone bothering you?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Well. Yeah. Sort of. But it’s fine.”

“Is it Harley?” Nick’s voice has an edge to it and his fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

“What? No.” I give him an odd look. “It’s Elliot.” The name feels strange on my tongue, like it doesn’t belong there. “The guy I was seeing before I came back.”

Technically, I never ended it. When he was out late at a work dinner, I packed my bags and left.Like I always do.

“That was him?” Nick asks, eyebrows flying up. “Just now?”

“Yeah. He calls a lot.”

“Do you answer?”

I shake my head. “No. We haven’t spoken since I left.”