6. Lake
6
LAKE
“ H ey, Pen, how are you feeling?” I ask, setting my mug on the counter instead of taking a sip. It’s my third cup of coffee and I definitely don’t need any more, but I’d been too damn anxious waiting for Pen to get up.
My blood runs hot in my veins as I stare at her, rumpled and makeup free and absolutely stunning.
And I kissed her last night.
Part of me thought it was just from the adrenaline of fleeing the resort, but all I can think when I look at Pen is that I want more.
Which I explicitly told her can’t happen.
Not now.
Swallowing back my frustration, I watch as she squints against the sunlight before meeting my gaze. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon.” She opens her mouth and then closes it again like she wants to be surprised but she’s not, her body having obviously needed the nearly twelve hours of sleep.
“I borrowed the hair tie in the bathroom,” she says, and my brows furrow but I shrug.
“I’m sure Wren won’t mind.”
“Wren?”
“She’s the only girl that’s ever been here besides my mom.”
She seems relieved by that, and I can’t help being amused.
Pen Stewart is jealous.
It’s adorable really, especially considering she almost got married yesterday.
“Do you have coffee?” she asks and I nod, the stool scraping against the wood floor as I stand.
“Sure.”
“And can I borrow your phone?” she asks as she looks around. “I want to call Oma but I’m not ready to turn mine on yet.”
I nod toward the counter. “It’s your birthday.”
“What?” Her fingers grip the device, typing in the passcode with ease and answering her own question before asking another one, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “It was just something for me at first, but now it’s a comfort, I guess.”
Her cheeks heat the prettiest shade of pink as she dials the phone and ducks her head as she walks into the open part of the living room.
Hips swaying in a pair of sweatpants I dug out of the back of my closet, I watch her openly, because I finally can.
The thought has a smile gracing my lips as I take a sip of coffee, mesmerized by her every move.
Turning, she catches me staring and mouths “what?” but I don’t have a good answer and can only give her a sheepish grin. Pen rolls her eyes and I chuckle, turning to pull a mug from the cabinet.
Hesitating, I take a breath and push the ones in the front to the side and pull a blue one from the back. The white letters on it are faded as I brush my thumb gently over them, a wave of memories accompanying the motion.
Best Friends Forever.
“Hey, what—” Pen frowns when she sees what’s in my hand, her mouth opening and closing as she glowers at it. “You said it broke.”
“Yeah.”
“But it didn’t,” she says, her voice rising as she approaches the island.
“I used it every day after you gave it to me, but when you started dating Carter…” I let the words trail off because it’s all I’ve got. I was seventeen and I’d blown my shot with my best friend. I was hurt and it was childish when I told her Jesse had shattered the mug beyond repair.
“And you lied about it?” she asks as my phone chirps, the noise drawing her attention. Instead of the screen going dark after her call, the mug had distracted her and she’d inadvertently opened one of the social media apps on my phone.
She glances quickly at it and then away, like she didn’t mean to pry, but when she does a double take, my heart drops to the floor.
“Pen, what are you—” Her finger scrolls faster than I can get around the counter, her eyes widening before filling with tears.
“I knew the articles were going to be bad, but the comments…”
“Pen.”
“And you just let me sleep in and wander around talking about coffee and mugs you lied about breaking when my world is literally crumbling around me!”
“Really?” I say more defensively than I mean. “What was I supposed to do? Rip you out of bed and shove my phone in your face? It’s bullshit, Pen. People are nasty and they’re gonna talk about you and?—”
“That doesn’t make it better, Lake! I hurt Carter and now I’m here…”
“You hurt him? What about all the times he hurt you? What about the times you called me damn near tears because he was stressed and made you feel like shit? You ran out on your wedding, but stop trying to minimize his role in all this.”
“You don’t get to lecture me about my relationship while you’ve been over here—what?—pining for me? Instead of manning up and?—”
“Don’t.” My voice is low and dangerous sounding even to my own ears. “I’ll own my piece, but don’t act like I was supposed to put you in that position when you had already chosen him. You made your choice, and look how well that turned out.”
She gasps, her eyes welling with angry tears. “Fuck you, Lake.” The words are like a knife to the heart. In the years we’ve been friends, we’ve never spoken to each other like this, but I can’t be sorry and I have a feeling right now neither is she. Tossing my phone on the island, she backs away toward the guest room.
She doesn’t say anything and neither do I before she disappears from sight.
Fuck me, indeed.