by CM Albert
“I do,” I said, remembering his black mountain bike. “You were the one who got me into riding, remember? I was terrified the first time I went down our hill.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t long before you were letting go of the handlebars and flying like a pro.”
My eyes lit with the memory. “It felt exactly like flying,” I marveled. “I still ride, you know. Nothing like what you do, from the sounds of it. But I get my miles in each week. Do the Queens College Booty Loop religiously.”
Noah laughed. “Still plenty of good booty on the loop?”
“You know it!” I said, chuckling that the whole city knew about a bike route specifically named after the tushies of all the fit college students and other runners who shared the roads. Booties or not, it was still my favorite scenic route because of the mammoth trees that canopied the roads in the Myers Park area. “So, what kind of racing are you doing these days? You still on a mountain bike?”
“Nah, I upgraded that a long time ago,” he said. “Ever heard of the Tour de France?”
“Get out.”
“Yep. I was a sprinter for my team.”
“That’s hot,” I said, wondering who he rode for and whether his team’s yellow jersey contender had won.
“It’s not so hot when you have to take a piss while you’re riding but you can’t stop because you have to get your rider to the finish line.” He chuckled, little dimples I didn’t remember framing his full lips.
“Ew,” I said. “Maybe something I didn’t need to know.”
“We never held anything back, Brynnie.”
“No, we didn’t. It’s what I loved about you.”
“Loved? As in past tense? Ouch.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t, Brynn. I loved you then. You were my best friend. And I’ll love you till the day I die. We made a blood oath, remember?”
The night he was talking about came rushing forward, and I almost got dizzy from the memories flooding me.
“How could I forget? It was our last night together. We snuck out at two in the morning and went down to your boat. It was August, so the cover was still off, but it was raised out of the water. We climbed in the back and listened to music on your little hand-cranked survival radio—remember that thing?”
“I still have it,” he said, laughing.
“You do not!”
“I do, actually. Remember those god-awful bologna sandwiches I made us?”
“Ugh!” I said, groaning. “They had so much mustard on them!”
He full-on belly laughed. “We threw them in the lake for the fishes, and even they wouldn’t eat them! They just floated there all sad and soggy in the water.”
I laughed. “And the stars,” I said, remembering the evening well. It had been etched into my heart like a celestial navigation map—one that often circled back to Noah over the years. “There was a meteor shower that night, which is why we snuck out to begin with.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
When I didn’t say anything, he did. “Remember? Operation Goodbye.”
Oh, that. He was really going to go there.
“I remember,” I said quietly.
“We decided that nothing could keep us apart. Not our parents. Not an ocean. Not the world. So, we promised that one day, we would find each other again—”
“If it was meant to be,” I reminded him.
“If it was our destiny. And we sealed it with a blood oath. Do you remember that?”
“How could I forget? You stabbed my finger with a fishing lure!”
“I stabbed my own too,” he reminded me.
“And then we mixed our blood finger to finger.”
“Then we each licked our fingertips, and . . . ?” he trailed off, waiting for me to finish.
“And then you kissed me,” I said, my eyes on his. They were a light hazel with warm brown flecks. I saw my past in there. But what scared me more was that I could also see a future. It felt like mine for the taking. But I was nowhere near ready to do something like that yet.
“It was a long time ago, Noah. Eighteen years is a lifetime away.”
He studied me, then his eyes crinkled. “Doesn’t feel that long, though, does it? We’re still connected.”
“Maybe,” I said quietly.
“Maybe? Come on, pigtails. You telling me you aren’t curious?”
The words slammed into me. That’s what I’d told Pierce the night we hooked up. I’m curious now. Look where that got me.
I don’t know why, but it suddenly felt wrong—like I was cheating. It was stupid. I wasn’t dating Pierce. I didn’t owe him anything. I could talk to an old friend.
But even I was calling myself out on my own BS.
Admit it, Brynn. You have feelings for them both.
“I need to get some sleep, Noah. I have an important meeting tomorrow morning.”
“Oh yeah? Anything fun?”
“I was promoted today, actually.”
“Congrats! That’s awesome. Can I take you out to celebrate next week?”
“Well, I’m already seeing you Wednesday evening for dinner. Why don’t we just celebrate then?”
“Sounds good.”
“Good night, Noah.”
“Night, gorgeous.”
That’s what I fell asleep to, and that’s what I dreamed of all night: my fair-haired, rough-and-tumble, frog-catching, kiss-stealing, promise-making friend.
Because the one part of the story neither of us mentioned was how he’d given me a small golden ring he’d saved up for all summer. It had a red apple on it because it was my favorite food in the entire world at ten, and he wanted me to think of him whenever I thought of my favorite things.
And then, he’d asked me to marry him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ALL SHIT HIT the fan at work, and lunch with my grampa and Babs couldn’t come soon enough. The office was in an uproar, seeing as Shay wasn’t the only one let go. The cuts made sense, though, if I were being pragmatic and looking at the different departments from a financial perspective. It seemed like the entire company was getting a shake-up, not just the editorial division.
On a positive note, I was welcomed into the office that morning by the most amazing bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen sitting on my desk. I could only assume they’d come from Pierce as a congratulations. You were born to sit among the stars! Congratulations, beautiful. That’s all the note said. It was nestled in a lush bouquet of verdant green botanicals, stunning white roses, and a surprising splash of color from sunny, tangerine-soaked calla lilies and tulips.
Everyone was excited for my promotion, and I was feeling inspired and creative as I brainstormed about how to reimagine the new romance department. I wasn’t sure Shay’s position truly needed to be replaced, but I wouldn’t know for sure before I met with the rest of my new team. Based on preliminary projections and sales data, though, it looked as if Shay’s workload had been on a steady decline over the last few years, despite her boastful claims.
Before I could corner Pierce and thank him for the flowers, I realized the morning had flown by and I needed to scooch if I wanted to make it to lunch on time. Grampa and Babs were waiting for me at the small sandwich shop close to Uptown. They had my favorite tuna on toasted whole grain. That, and freshly squeezed cherry limeades. Grampa liked their vanilla milkshakes and French dip sandwiches on soft white hoagies. They were his favorite in all of Charlotte.
“Hey, Grampa,” I said, sitting down at the cozy little booth near the window. Freshly cut flowers filled a small mason jar and made me think of my own gorgeous arrangement back at the office.
The look of confusion that flashed over his eyes gutted me. Time stopped, and I willed him to recognize me. “Grampa?”
When nothing came, I inhaled sharply, glancing at
Babs as I held back the fresh tears that were threatening to come forward.
Babs shook her head imperceptibly, tears already clouding her eyes.
I glanced between them, my grandfather now focusing on his silverware. He looked up at Babs, then at me. “Oh, do you have a friend joining us for lunch today?” he asked her. He reached out his hand across the checkered tablecloth. “I’m Lynwood Sterling.”
I nodded, wiping the tears now falling down my cheeks. I shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sterling.”
“Please, call me Lynwood. Sterling’s just the fancy name on my business cards.”
“Oh?” I asked. “And where do you work?”
“I own a small publishing company. You might have heard about it?”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
So, he did. Over lunch he told me all about the publishing company he and his wife started in Charlotte—one he hoped would compete with the Big Six in New York City one day. I used my napkin to wipe the tears as he spoke. He hadn’t talked about Gramma Gracie in a long time—the stunning Graceland Masters who was on her way to New York City to become a famous author before Grampa stepped in and swept her off her feet!
“You’d like Gracie,” he said. “You favor her. Do you know my Gracie?”
I bit the corner of my lip, feeling it tremble as I clutched the napkin. “She sounds wonderful, Lynwood. I hope your dreams come true.”
His blue eyes brightened. “Oh, they will. I have the Midas touch. It runs in the family.”
I lost it, the shaky laugh spilling from my lips as I swallowed more tears. I glanced at Babs. “Will you be all right with him today? Will you call me if anything changes?”
She nodded. “He was fine this morning,” she said quietly, turning from him so only I could hear. Grampa went back to eating his sandwich, as if it was his first time. My tuna sandwich sat cold and untouched on my plate.
“It’s time, isn’t it?”
“He still has good days, Brynn. But I think it’s time to either get a second nurse or go ahead and pull the trigger and get him in the retirement center. You just need to let me know what you want to do.”
I nodded, grateful for Grampa’s longtime caregiver. She’d known my gramma, too, before Gracie died.
“It was nice to meet you, Lynwood,” I said, standing.
“You as well, darling.”
It was two o’clock when I left the restaurant. Instead of going back into the office, I texted Lindy and asked her to cover for me. I couldn’t go back yet. I needed time to breathe. To pull my shit together. I drove to Freedom Park and walked along the pathway, past the old coal-burning steam engine that was a permanent display in the park. Young children raced in and out of the conductor’s chamber along the wooden walkway that led to the cozy space. I remembered Grampa taking me there as a kid—telling me stories about the old locomotive, and how it was gifted to the city.
I walked across the small bridge and over to the lake, drawing in deep lungfuls of air. The weather was still beautiful in Charlotte, despite it being November. It was one of the things that drew me back here after college. That, and the desire to carry on my grandfather’s legacy. His dream had come true years ago when Sterling and Masters went public. He eventually sold his baby when my gramma died and he retired. It was a peaceful takeover, and the new corporation still held on to my grampa’s original ideals. Not many people at work knew of my connection to the original Sterling and Masters, and I wanted to keep it that way. I wanted every ounce of my success to be mine.
My heart constricted at the thought of not being able to tell my grampa the good news about my promotion. He would be so proud of me. I knew the odds were good that he would have at least one good day again—at least, I hoped he would. But his incoherence today had decimated me. Without thinking, I picked up my phone and dialed.
“Brynn? Is everything okay?”
The floodgates opened, and I started to cry, my hand covering my mouth as my body shook against the wooden bench I’d fallen onto.
“Brynn, talk to me,” he said.
I inhaled, trying to catch my breath enough to choke the words out. “Sorry. I didn’t know who else to call. I panicked.”
“Brynnie,” Noah said, “you can call me anytime. What’s wrong?”
“It’s my grampa.”
“Oh no,” he said. “Do I need to hop on a plane and get there earlier?”
My heart stopped. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course, pigtails,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Tell me what happened.”
So, I did. He didn’t once say he was busy or tell me I’d interrupted anything. It would’ve been around seven in the evening his time, I realized. But he listened as I told him all about my grampa’s condition and how he didn’t recognize me today. I talked until my steam ran out and my heart felt heard.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
He didn’t tell me how to fix it. He didn’t tell me I was wrong or overreacting. He’d listened. The steady and dependable Noah I remembered and once loved. Yes, I’d been ten when I gave him my heart. But maybe I’d never gotten that small sliver back. I didn’t know. I just knew that talking to Noah again made sense. It felt good and steady—and right now, I needed that, when everything else in my world was suddenly changing so fast.
“I’m glad I’ll get to see you next week,” I said, laughing through my tears and snot. I pulled a tissue from my purse and blew my nose. “I promise I won’t be a basket case by then.”
“You can be anything you need to be,” he said affectionately. “Hey, did you get my surprise today? If not, I have a little something that may cheer you up when you get back to the office.”
“Did you—did you send those flowers?” I asked, shocked.
“I did. I just wanted to say congratulations. I can’t wait to celebrate with you in person.”
“Me too,” I said. “Noah—”
“It’s okay. We can talk about everything later.”
“I need to tell you something, though.”
“Okay,” he said.
“I—I just met someone. It’s still really new.”
“Brynn, you don’t owe me an explanation. Let’s just see what happens when I get there.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me as we chatted today.
“I won’t push you. But I will fight for you—if your heart’s available. Is it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what this is with this other guy yet. And I don’t know what this is with you. I mean, we won’t even know if any of this chemistry feels real until we see each other again, right? And it’s not like anything can work long-term with us. You’re in London, for god’s sake.”
“Brynnie,” he said patiently, “you think I’d let something as silly as a little ocean come between us if I got a second chance with you?”
And there went the other half of my heart to Noah.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PIERCE WAS UNDERSTANDING when I texted him and told him I was taking the rest of the day off. I wasn’t ready to see him yet when I was still so in my head and heart around Noah. How in the world had this happened in just a few short days? I knew what I had with Pierce was just physical. But he was in my space constantly—reminding me of the magnetic pull I had toward him.
I thought about the meeting that was on the books for Tuesday and how it would be just me, my childhood best friend who still held a flame for me, and my current fuck buddy—all nice and cozy in one small conference room.
I was hyperventilating and knew I needed to talk to Lindy.
She met me after work at the nail bar. She chose a light baby blue for her toenails, and I selected black. It fit my mood today. We each got a glass of white wine and sat back in our massage chairs while the technicians slathered our feet wit
h orange-scented exfoliation lotion. It was the first time I relaxed all day.
“Thank you,” I said to my best friend. “I needed this.”
“I knew it was an SOS,” she said, looking over at me. “You doing any better?”
I’d had the afternoon to calm down and think things through, so my heart was in a better place now than it was after my lunch with Grampa.
“I am,” I said, smiling lightly. I gave her the CliffsNotes version of what went down and how I’d arrived at our favorite nail bar with a confused and divided heart.
“Wow, okay. So Noah, the dark horse, coming in on the last lap.”
I laughed at her analogy. “Who would’ve thunk it, right? What am I going to do, Lindy? I mean, I need to talk to Pierce, but I want him to give Noah a chance, professionally speaking. I’m afraid if he knows about our past together, he’ll go all alpha male on me and shut down any possible negotiations.”
“Now, hold on, Brynn. Yes, he’s all hot alpha male meets boardroom tycoon. But, and this is a big ‘but,’” she said, grinning.
I rolled my eyes. “I bet it is.”
“He’s a professional. And based on my interactions and conversations with him so far, I’ve found him to be smart and successful, with a laser focus on what drives the market. He doesn’t seem the type to let personal business get in the way of a golden opportunity.”
“I hope not,” I said. “Whether we get the deal or not, or whether we even want to offer her one, I just want Pierce to give Noah a fair shot.”
“And what about you?” she asked. “Do you want to give Noah a fair shot?”
“I don’t know, Lindy. This all snuck up on me. But the hard part—the part that’s making me pause—is that it still feels like home with Noah, even after all this time. The second I saw his face last night, my heart felt at ease. He was the first person I called today when I was a wreck. What does that say?”
“That you need to call your current best friend next time?” she said, laughing.
I reached out my hand and squeezed hers. “I love you,” I said. “Now, let’s talk weddings and take my mind off all my boy drama!”