Page 114 of Barely Barred
The question surprises me.
“He left. The firm, I mean. This past summer.”
James gives me a confused look, so I continue.
“His band was opening for that rock band. Midnight Drive? I think. Anyway, a music producer happened to be at one of the shows, and his band got picked up by a label. They’re touring on their own now. We still talk every once in a while. Just to catch up.”
“I’m happy for him,” I add, but there’s a slight sadness in it.
Not just for Nash, but also for James. For the loss of what I had with both of them and for how different things are now.
I still think about both of them all the time, but not in the same way.
For the last six months Nash and I worked together, before he left, we had essentially (and successfully) friend-zoned each other. And I’m thankful for the friendship we still have, even though there’s distance now.
When I think back on my time with Nash, it was fun. But it didn’t feel like forever. And that’s okay.
But with James? It was severe. It was deep. It was something else entirely. And I have missed him the way you miss an ex-lover. The way you miss the sun after days of rain.
James nods.
We sit there in the dim light of the bar, nursing our drinks. My mind drifts to the first time we sat here together. Our conversation, the meal we shared, him driving me home. And I wonder what we could have been had it not all been complicated from the start.
James clears his throat, and I’m ripped out of the memory and back into reality.
“So,” he says, soft and low. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“No,” I answer, quicker than I intend. “No, I’m not. I haven’t seen anyone since…well, you and Nash.”
He leans back, folding his arms. “Would you want to? See someone.”
My cheeks flush. My heartrate quickens. And for a moment, I forget that he’s waiting for me to answer him.
“Depends on the someone,” I say, taking a sip of my wine.
“How about me?” he says. “Would you want to see me again?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Yes. I would.”
