Page 81 of Licks

I waited.

She sniffled, soft words following. “I have a great life and great friends. A job I adore. Then you came roaring back into my life, and I was that teenager again, feeling damaged and just…not good enough. Not because of you, but when things got complicated, it was so easy to fall back into that role. Hate myself for choices I couldn’t change. Like those insecurities were there, waiting for me.”

I stroked the length of her hair. “They’ll never fully go away. It’s who you are. Like I’ll always be a fixer, wanting to take over and do before asking. My job is to try and hit pause before I act. Yours is to remember how fulfilling your life is, because you’re that woman, too.” Strong. Determined. Sexy as hell.

“Yeah.” She nodded, the movement gaining strength with each lift of her chin. “I am. And I forgive myself.”

A rough sigh pushed from my chest, warmth incinerating my chill from earlier. Thank God my cell had died. If it hadn’t, I could be touring Alcatraz right now, wishing for solitary confinement. I released her cheek and glanced at her father’s home. “Did you go in?”

She shook her head.

“You nervous?” She shook her head again, but her lips moved imperceptibly. I’d forgotten about her silly nervous tic. “I think you are. You’re doing your thing.”

“What thing?”

“That weird movie title thing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Color pinked her cheeks.

“Your lips were moving, Possum. What word did you use?”

She rolled her eyes and let her head fall onto the headrest. “Sex.”

Now was not the time to laugh. I couldn’t muffle the sound. “You’re nervous about introducing yourself to your father’s family, and you’re reciting movie titles with the word sex?”

“I can’t even believe I’m doing that stupid game again, but then you show up with your stupid hair and stupid face and stupid body.” She gestured absently toward me. “It’s the first word that came up. But don’t get any ideas. There will be no more sex.”

I couldn’t have heard her right. “Like ever?”

She deflated, sprawling as much as she could on her seat. “I don’t know. I’m a walking disaster. We’ve been dating less than a day, and I just broke up with you. I might have siblings. My father is dead. Everything in my life is changing too fast.”

“So just, like, not this minute? In the car?”

She punched me lightly in the stomach. “You know what I mean, August. I need my best friend right now.”

I caught her hand and held it. I did know. She needed a breather. Time to process. Our remaining seconds wouldn’t be spent tangled in bed. There was no curbing my disappointment, but being her best friend meant the world. I kissed her hand. “Whatever you need, honey.”

She brushed her knuckles against my lips, back and forth. The soft touch slipped through my bloodstream, heating my skin. She may have said no sex, but my body had its own agenda. I tensed my thighs. It didn’t help. If I had to choose one word Gwen inspired it would be fever.

Heat from one look. Fire from one touch. Warmth from one word.

My next song would be titled, “Fever Junkie.”

She glanced past me, toward the house. “I get why you waited to tell me, how hard it was to face me after all those years. I also can’t stop thinking about how defining that was, like everything the past day: the journal, us reuniting, learning about my mom. So I’ve been sitting here, stewing over impossible things like fate and destiny, wondering if I wasn’t meant to meet my father.”

The center console kept me from pulling her into my arms. I wasn’t sure she’d want that anyway. I settled on weaving our fingers together. “I’ve never put much stock in the idea of ghosts or the unexplainable, but I do believe in fate, and there’s no denying the events the past couple months have felt…preordained?”

“So it’s not just me?”

“It’s not just you. It still doesn’t excuse what I did. I’m sick about not telling you your dad’s name sooner.”

“I know you are.” She fiddled with my fingers, ran her thumb over my sparse knuckle hair. “It happened, though. Your fault, my fault, my mother’s fault—the reason doesn’t matter. This is the fallout, which brings us back to reality.”

I studied the red door that had her gnawing her lip. “The woman I met was nice, if that helps. She seemed sweet.”