Chapter 3

3

L ucas folded his arms and leaned against the cold brick facade of the bar. Dammit, it really was freezing. He could see his breath, which should be a crime in the month of May if you asked him. Joan stood in front of him and chewed on her lip. She clutched her salt-rimmed cup in one hand. He wasn’t used to seeing her nervous, which made his own stomach flip in anxiety.

“Were you seriously not going to talk to me?” It sounded petulant even to his own ears, but he couldn’t stop it.

Joan stared at her cuticles. Her curtain of wavy blonde hair hung forward, obscuring her expression. His heart shifted when she finally lifted her eyes to meet his. She looked so resigned and nothing at all like the vivacious, adventurous woman he’d come to know. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was going to.”

That didn’t explain anything, though. She’d been avoiding him at times, dodging some of his calls and texts, and he felt like a needy, miserable wretch about it. He couldn’t confront her if she wouldn’t acknowledge the truth.

“Joan, what is it? Is this about the treatment Maria was talking about?” He laid a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “Oh God, are you okay? Are you sick or something?”

She smiled then, a real smile, and his chest loosened in relief.

“It’s nothing like that,” she said. “I don’t really want to tell you yet, but I’m okay, I promise. It isn’t just about Chet, I’ll give you that, but I’m not quite brave enough to talk about it.”

“You’re always brave.”

She scoffed. “It’s funny you see me that way. The most daring thing I do anymore is turn off my electric toothbrush before the two minutes are up.”

He decided to let the treatment stuff go, but he was going to bring it up again later. It sounded important, and she never kept important stuff from him. A frisson of guilt tightened his limbs. He had things to tell her, too, and he needed to do that soon, but they were hard conversations. Maybe that made him a hypocrite, but he also wasn’t just ignoring her.

“So why won’t you tell me what’s eating at you?”

He watched her closely as she took a sip of her drink. Her eyes darted to the street, where a man crushed a cigarette under his boot. Lucas thought himself better than average at reading people, but he couldn’t puzzle her out. Nothing about her demeanor made sense. She was hardly ever cryptic, and he’d never had to pull a confession from her.

“I just wonder sometimes,” she said. She stopped to watch the stranger again as he lit another cigarette, its red tip glowing against the cold night air.

“You wonder about what? The future of the climate? The Cubs’ chances? Whether you can recycle a pizza box with some of the cheese still stuck to it?”

“Yes, you can.” She finally smiled. “If the amount of cheese is negligible, I think.”

“That’s…” He ran a hand through his hair. It was getting too long again. “I already know. I looked it up Friday.” He touched her chin and tilted her face up to his. She was tall, as tall as him, in fact, and he wanted to be eye level for this conversation. “Jo Jo. What in the hell is going on?”

She sighed. Had anything good ever come from a sigh like that?

“I’m feeling really stagnant in life lately. I need to shake some things up.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. She’d recently started a new job, which made sense if she was in a rut. “I can help with that. We can plan a trip or something.” He knew all about being in a rut. He had a tendency toward frequent boredom himself.

She shook her head. “Lucas,” she said softly. Her eyes looked so sad. Oh, God. “This isn’t something you can help with.” If his heart had shifted before, now it slowed to a stop.

“Don’t say that.” He stared at her, even though her own gaze kept flitting around. “I’m sure we can tackle whatever it is.”

She laughed. “No, we can’t. It’s okay if you can’t solve this for me, Luke. We can be close friends without being involved in every single aspect of the other’s life. I mean, aren’t we a little codependent, maybe? Emmie broke up with you because of me, and all my relationships have crashed and burned, too.”

Heat climbed up his throat. “So are you mad at me, then? Is that what this is?”

“No, of course not. I was just saying that we don’t have to share everything. We’re less like friends and more like a single lifeform at this point.”

He eyed her. She was hiding something big, he knew.

“You mentioned our relationships. Has this—” he gestured between them “—kept you from meeting someone?” Lucas pushed away from the wall. He passed both hands through his hair, one after the other. He turned to pace along the sidewalk.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe?” She sagged against the brick. “Some men do hate it.”

“Then they aren’t right for you,” he countered. “And Emmie and I weren’t right for each other, either. Honestly, if someone can’t handle our friendship, I feel like that’s their problem.” He stopped pacing and eyed her again. “Did Chet break up with you because of me? Is that what this is?”

“I think that was part of it,” she said, looking down again. “But some other stuff, too.”

Even if that was true, his mind resisted the idea that their friendship could somehow be a bad thing. No one else understood, but over the years, they’d supported each other in irreplaceable ways. Breakups. Family drama. He knew that he would come second to a serious boyfriend, but if she kept shutting him out like this, it would feel like losing a layer of skin.

Joan tossed her cup in the nearby trash and shook out her hands. “I’m going numb out here. Can we go back in now? I bet they’ve moved on to the aughts music category.”

“Okay,” he said. “But I don’t want this conversation to be over. And please, please don’t ignore me completely.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and she stopped moving, her fingers positioned at the door to the bar. “You’re still my best friend.”

She nodded, but her eyes shifted to the side. His heart issued another nervous kick.

“And hey, since we’re both here, why don’t you join our table after the game?”

Another sigh. Dammit.

“Okay,” she said. “I can do that.”

He wasn’t sure how to restore their bond, but he would always take more time with her. She would confide in him soon, he was sure.

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