Page 9 of The Lucky Heart (Jamison Valley 3)
And I’d kill for her curves. I was long and lean, whereas she had an hourglass figure. Khloe’s curves had developed early and I’d once made a snide comment about how she should trade pizza for Pilates. Not my finest moment.
Damn it. I had been such a little brat. No wonder she looked like she was sitting on a bed of nails.
“I’ll just get right to the point,” I said. “Then you can be free of me. I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry for how I treated you in high school. There’s no excuse for my behavior. The things I said to you were horrible and I am just so, so sorry.”
Her wide eyes shot to mine. We stared at each other for a few seconds until she relaxed and looked back to the table. “Thanks,” she whispered.
I brought my coffee cup up to my lips to hide my relief. It hadn’t been easy to admit my faults and to swallow my pride, but holy hell, it had been worth it. Even if she rejected my apology, I felt better just for having made it.
Khloe surprised me by not jumping up to flee and, instead, scooting back up to the table. “Are you just here on vacation?”
“Actually, I moved back last week. It was time for me to come home. Seattle is an amazing city but it wasn’t for me anymore. I’m living out of the motel until I can get into my rental next week, but it feels good to be home. What about you? How have you been since high school?”
She gave me a sideways glance.
“What?” I asked, swiping my face. Was there foam on my lips?
“Honestly? You’re so different. Not at all the mean girl I remembered. When you moved away, I did a happy dance that I’d never have to see you again. Now you’re being nice and . . . real. It’s throwing me off.”
Was there a hole anywhere close that I could crawl into? “I’m sorry. I am completely ashamed of myself.” Did the pained expression on my face convey just how much I regretted teasing her? I hoped so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Um, can we change the subject?”
“You’ll get no objections from me.”
“Are you married?”
“Nope. You?”
She nodded. “I married Derrick Olson after college.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop a frown. Derrick had run with a rough crowd in high school and he’d had a reputation for being too physical with his girlfriends. I hadn’t known him well but he’d always given me the creeps. His stare had always been aimed at my breasts, and he’d like to invade my personal space.
Judge much, Felicity? What was my problem? I had changed since high school, so maybe Derrick had too. Maybe Khloe had seen something in him that the rest of us had missed.
“How is Derrick?” I refused to let myself be pigeonholed by past opinions.
“He’s good.”
For the next half hour, we visited and caught up on the past. She shared a few college stories with me and I told her about my job working as a consultant for a large tech firm. As we deposited our cups in the dishes bin and stepped outside, I smiled, thinking this could be the start to a new friendship. “I’d love to meet up with you again.”
“Uh, maybe.” She looked to her feet. “I don’t get out much when Derrick’s home. We just like to spend a lot of time together. He’s on a work trip today so, uh, maybe the next time he’s gone.”
Okay, weird.
If she didn’t want to have coffee with me again, she could have just been honest. She didn’t need to make up some lame excuse and blame her husband. But I didn’t hold it against her. I’d be wary of me too. One apology probably hadn’t been enough to erase all the hurt feelings I’d caused her as a kid.
“Sure, if that works best for you.” We exchanged numbers and I waved as we parted. “Call me whenever. I had fun catching up with you today.”
“Felicity?” she called before I could turn away. “I’m sorry about Wes.”
I gave her a sad smile. “Me too.” I waved again before walking to my car and climbing in. Safe behind my tinted windows, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest.
Hearing Wes’s name always stung. Unfortunately, now that I was back, I needed to brace because it was bound to happen often. Long ago, Wes and I had been inseparable. Wherever he’d gone, I’d followed. People didn’t talk about Felicity Cleary without talking about Wes Drummond too.
This past week, I had been assaulted by memories of the times we had spent together. Different places in town would trigger a remembrance or a feeling, and with each came the heavy weight of guilt.
I’d only been back for a week, but it felt like I had stepped back into the past. Like my Seattle life had been encapsulated in a bubble that burst the second I’d driven into Prescott. Sixteen years had passed but the memories were as fresh as yesterday.
