Chapter 8 Ryan
“Still no girlfriend back in Chicago?” Logan asks after the bartender slides our beers in front of us.
I shake my head and take a drink. “No time.”
He laughs. “I don’t think that’s actually the problem.”
We’ve been friends since birth because our moms were longtime best friends. And even after choosing different careers, going to schools in different countries, and then settling down in different states, we’re still just as close today as we were as kids.
Logan has walked with me through every major event in my life. My buzz cut in eighth grade, the first time I made out with a girl freshman year (he wasn’t there, but you better believe I recounted it to him in such detail that he felt like he was the one who kissed Tory Hayes), and also when my mom died junior year. I don’t like thinking back to that time—even after all these years, it hurts. My dad passed when I was five, so I never really had any memories of him, but my mom and I were more like friends than mother and son. And no one can prepare for a car accident.
Logan’s mom, Molly, was my mom’s best friend and is also my godmother. So, when Mom passed, I went to live with Logan and his family for the rest of high school. He’s seen me through my best and my worst days (the buzz cut being among the worst). And that’s why, now, I think of Logan as my brother. He calls me on my shit, and I let him because he seems to know my motives better than I do, anyway.
I set my glass down and turn my full attention to Logan. “I work six, sometimes seven, days a week, and usually until midnight. So it kinda feels like the problem to me.”
Logan laughs. He’s shaking his head at me. My answer wasn’t the right one, apparently. “You want to know the actual problem?”
I lean against the back of the barstool and resist the urge to clasp my hands behind my head. “Yes, please tell me why I don’t have a girlfriend, oh wise one.”
“Women love you . . .”
“Ah, yep—there’s the problem. Can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
He holds up his hand. “Let me finish.” I nod for him to go ahead. “Most women you meet like you right away. Take those three ladies, for instance,” he says, nodding to somewhere over my shoulder. “They’ve been undressing you with their eyes since we sat down, but I have a theory . . .”
I glance back, and yeah, a small group of women have their eyes locked on me. Their targets are set, and I probably have a little red dot in the center of my forehead.
When I accidentally make eye contact with them, all three ladies sit up straighter and toss their most welcoming smiles at me. I don’t want to be rude, so I give them a tight smile and lift my glass in a silent toast.
“Aha! See. Theory proven. Beautiful ladies are smiling at you, and you immediately go back to scowling at your glass. You hate it.”
“What’s your point, Logan?”
“I think you hate their attention because you’ve mentally already checked out on everyone besides one woman. The one woman, in fact, that you’ve never been able to get over, who would rather slap you than kiss you. I think you like June, and you also like that she doesn’t fawn over you like everyone else.”
Damn.
I think he’s right.
June challenges me around every corner and I love it. She’s someone who doesn’t care about my looks or my job or social status—she’s going to call me out if I’m wrong every single time. But she’s also so funny, and beautiful, and smart. She’s absolutely someone who would make me want to come home from the restaurant early at night. And I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling with anyone else.
“Why haven’t you visited her before now?” Logan asks, raising his brow and catching my attention again.
I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t know. It never seemed like the right time.”
“But you’ve thought about visiting her before?”
“I mean . . . yeah. I’ve wanted to see her. Does that shock you?”
“No. So why haven’t you?”
“I’ve just been focusing on my career and . . .”
“And what?” Geez, he’s inquisitive tonight.
I sigh before I speak again, because there’s nothing I hate more than admitting my feelings when they make me sound like a coward. “I guess, I knew she wouldn’t be happy to see me. It was hard to convince myself to face a woman that I crushed on for years that only hated my guts in return. I like that she challenges me, but I don’t like that she hates me.”
“Well, in all fairness, she’s always thought you hated her too.”
Logan downs his drink, and I want to keep talking about June and find out what she’s been up to all these years, but he closes up the subject, and it feels weird to force it. So, instead, the conversation moves to his and Stacy’s plans for the future. I do a pretty good job of avoiding any thoughts of June until Logan tells me they are moving to California after the wedding and Stacy is selling her half of Darlin’ Donuts. My mind is all too happy to race back to June, and I wonder if she’s feeling crushed right now. I know how much Stacy means to her.
Maybe I’ll go by her place and see how she’s doing. Although she’ll probably just think it’s some kind of trap and I’m actually only there to set a mouse loose in her house. I did that once in high school, so her guess wouldn’t be all that misguided. But then I look down at my phone and see that it’s almost eleven o’clock. Too late for house calls.
“Are you going to go after her?” Logan asks.
“Will you stop reading my thoughts? It’s annoying.”
He chuckles. “Then stop wearing your feelings on your face. You’re smirking like a villain. The only time I ever see you look like that is when June is around. So, are you going for her?”
“Is it terrible if I say yes?” Even without Logan answering, I know the answer is yes. Awful. Bad idea.
I still have to decide if I’m going to take the job in Chicago. If I do, I won’t even have any time for June. I’ll barely have time to eat and sleep. Is that what I want? I’ve been working my butt off to get to this exact place in my career, but it doesn’t feel like I thought it would now that I’m here. Turns out, it’s lonely at the top.
“Terrible? No. Unlikely that you’ll succeed? Yes. The way she’s talked about you over the years, I’d think drowning puppies is your favorite hobby.”
I laugh. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Besides, June has a ‘one-date’ rule, and I don’t see you agreeing to that.”
Well, this just got interesting.
I frown. “One-date rule? What are you talking about?”
“She won’t go out with anyone more than once. One date and then it’s sayonara.”
“No way.”
“I’m dead serious. Stacy and I thought it wouldn’t last long when she first announced she’d never date the same man twice again, but that was five years ago, and she’s still going strong.”
“Why?” I ask, not certain how I feel about this news.
Logan picks up a handful of peanuts and tosses them into his mouth. “To keep herself from getting hurt again.” He pauses his chewing and meets my gaze. Now he’s a chipmunk—frozen with wide eyes and cheeks stuffed with nuts. “Oh shit. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”
Hmm. Now that’s something. And exactly what I’ve suspected. For a while now, I’ve been suspicious that there is some sort of “no talking about June” policy in place, but I could never be completely certain. Logan just confirmed it, though.
Lucky for me, he’s the easiest walnut to crack.
“Shouldn’t have said what?” I run my finger across the condensation on my beer glass. I’m relaxed. Nonchalant. No big deal.
Logan swallows his massive bite. “Nothing. Forget it.”
I swing my casual gaze to Logan’s face and let it rest there. My smirk is easy-breezy as I lay my arm down on the bar, getting comfortable.
Logan’s shoulders sink. “Come on. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me tell you this secret.”
I shrug. “No one’s making you tell them anything. I’m just enjoying a beer with a friend . . . a friend who looks like he’s got a lot on his chest.”
Poor Logan. He’s pressing his lips together because he’s an unopened soda bottle, and I’m shaking him up. Most men have to wrestle with their friends for an hour before they can get the truth out of them. I just stare at Logan, and he crumbles like a cookie, because he hates keeping things from me. I’m surprised he’s been able to harbor this secret all these years.
But tonight, I’ll get it out of him.
We enter a staring contest for two minutes. By the two-minute-and-ten-second mark, a bead of sweat drips down Logan’s forehead, and I know he’s moments away from spilling every secret he’s ever had.
“She was engaged five years ago!” Logan blurts and then immediately slumps over like he’s just dropped a fifty-pound weight.
I, on the other hand, have been punched in the gut. Engaged. I had no idea. I mean, it makes sense. She’s thirty, incredible, and gorgeous.
But for some reason, I’m still surprised. “Engaged? What happened?” I ask, but Logan looks torn again. “Oh, come on. We both know you’re going to tell me, anyway. Just spill it.”
“Fine. But if Stacy asks, you were holding me in a headlock, and I had no choice.”
I roll my eyes and nod my agreement, but Logan holds out his elbow. He looks as serious about sealing this promise with our secret oath as he did when we were six and first established it. I look around, making sure no one is watching, and then tap my elbow against his. There. It’s done. He now has the right to give me a swirly if I break our agreement.
“None of us really know,” he begins. “One day, Ben was June’s world, and the next, she was sending out a group text the week of the ceremony that said Wedding is off. It didn’t work out. She claimed she felt suffocated in the relationship and that she’d lost touch with herself. But Stacy thinks it was just a cover for something that June didn’t want to talk about. She’s always been a pretty private person, so it makes sense.”
I grip my empty glass, and I think it cracks a little. I’m not totally sure why I’m having this reaction. Maybe because, like Stacy, I think there’s more to the story? I remember the tremble in June’s voice earlier this evening, and my mind starts working through possible scenarios of why June would have called off her wedding. “She ended it the week of the ceremony?”
Logan nods. “Yep. Strangest thing.”
I make a huh noise and focus my attention on the liquor bottles behind the bar, processing one uncomfortable realization after another. She almost married someone else. I could have lost my chance with her forever. I should have come back sooner.
After a few quiet moments, I tap the wooden bar five times with my middle finger—each tap further solidifying the decision I’m making.
Logan’s chuckle has me turning my head to look at him. He’s smiling and shaking his head at me like he thinks I’m a complete sucker—a man about to buy a knockoff Rolex from a street vendor, thinking it’s the real thing. “You’re going after that second date, aren’t you?”
I smirk. “I do love a challenge.”
“Especially when it concerns June.”
I pull a twenty out of my pocket and throw it on the bar to close out our tab. “Especially then.”
As I walk to my car, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. It’s late, so I really don’t even need to look at the caller ID to know who it is. Still, I register the name Noah flashing across my screen and then ignore the call.