Always Will

by Jacobson, Melanie

  I need to go.

  Wait.

  I waited, but when he didn’t text back for a while, I climbed out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom and my toothbrush. I was foaming at the mouth with Aquafresh when my phone beeped. I spat and scooped it up. Will again.

  The idea of trying to be Mr. Perfect on a string of first dates right now makes me exhausted. I need a break.

  “Aaargh!” I yelled to my sympathetic reflection. “Is he kidding me?” I tapped out an answer and wished each letter would hit his eyeball with the force of the annoyance I typed it with. Srsly? NO. No way. If you want to stay friends, you need to date. For real. Women who seem cool. That I would like. That I would be okay hanging out with at one of Dave’s barbecues. IT’S ONLY FAIR.

  I rinsed and spat, eying his reply on my screen.

  The rules are CONFUSING.

  Because I’m making them up as we go. Do what you want, but if you want to hang out with me, I need that buffer. Date a cool chick, W. Do it with my blessing.

  And if I do this, we can hang out? That’s how it works?

  Maybe. Sometimes, probably.

  Soon?

  Eventually.

  We need to get to a new normal. But all versions of normal include us hanging out again. Brace yourself.

  I didn’t answer him. He’d have to wait. I’d fallen in love with him over the course of years. It might take that long to fall out of love again.

  The thought made my stomach hurt, and I did the only thing that had offered any hope of escape lately. I texted Jay. I needed something to look forward to. Hang out soon?

  I’ll wear my best basketball shorts.

  Wha . . . ?

  It was a rebounding joke.

  OH, HA. Make it your running shorts. Then we’ll see who’s laughing when we hit the lake trail.

  Game on. I’m going to make you sorry. Tomorrow morning?

  It sounded like the perfect way to spend a Saturday, and I texted him a relieved yes. It was nice to think about a run with Jay instead of my next run-in with Will. And Jay was fine with it. Note to self: ask Sophie the word for a Christmas miracle in October.

  * * *

  Jay knocked at ten the next morning, and I opened the door to find him in a faded Captain America T-shirt and running shoes. The shirt fit him like it had been cut and sewn with his pecs in mind. I appreciated the view until he cleared his throat and I looked up to catch the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile as he watched me.

  I grinned, not at all embarrassed. “What’s my superhero alter ego?”

  He leaned against the doorframe and pretended to take the question seriously, scanning me from head to toe. His eyes lingered on my running shoes. “The Flash. You’re going to smoke me today, aren’t you?”

  “Like a candy cigarette. Ready?”

  Chapter 20

  I stepped into the hall with Jay at the same time Will came up the stairs from the parking lot, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt too. A pretty redheaded woman in shorts that made her look so good I was instantly jealous and a baby-blue tank top I immediately wanted followed behind him. He paused when he saw us. I didn’t want even one second of weirdness between us because Jay might put that together with my confession of unrequited love and make all of us awkward.

  I smiled and walked toward Will, who didn’t look like he was sure if he was supposed to acknowledge me or not. Constantly shifting rules were hard. I couldn’t blame him. “Hey,” I said, keeping my voice as normal as I would if we were the Will-and-Hannah of a month ago, before we broke. “You guys going for a run too?”

  Will shook his head. “No. Disc golf, but I forgot the discs, so we had to run back to get them.”

  “Sounds fun,” Jay said.

  “Jay, this is my neighbor Will and his friend . . .”

  “Shauna.” The woman smiled, and I liked that she didn’t add anything to clarify, like, “Shauna, Will’s date.” It meant she wasn’t threatened. That was a good step toward furthering normal relations with Will. “I’m going to take your word for it that disc golf is fun. I have no hand-eye coordination, but Will says it’s a good time, and he promised not to laugh at me, so we’ll see.”

  “I’m not even really sure what it is,” Jay said. “I’m giving it the benefit of the doubt because it has the word golf in it.”

  “It’s really fun,” I said to reassure Shauna. “I used to go with my brother and his friends all the time.” I didn’t clarify that I meant Will, and his eyebrow lifted at the omission. Too bad. It was time to go while the laid-back vibe still thrummed between us, like running into your neighbor in the hallway should.

  “You should come,” Shauna said. “I mean, on the condition that you can give me some tips to help me not look like an idiot.”

  I was about to decline, but Jay jumped in. “I’m not going to lie, that sounds better than trying to look like it’s not killing me to keep up with Hannah here on our run.” He hooked an arm around my neck and tugged me to him to drop a soft kiss on my hair. Will’s eyes darkened, and I hurried to stop us from crashing his date.

  “Thanks, but if we don’t go on this run, Jay’s going to think I can’t back up my trash talk.”

  “I believe you,” he said. “So much that I’m going to beg to go disc golf instead where I have a shot at not humiliating myself.”

  Great. But did I have that same shot with Will around? Trying to test drive our “be normal around each other’s dates” plan was way down the road. I tried to figure out a polite way out of it, but Will shrugged and said, “Works for me. I’ve got enough discs for all of us.”

  I wanted to make eye contact with him and silently ask, “What are you thinking?” But even more than that, I didn’t want Jay to notice that Will and I could have whole conversations without words and wonder why. Or Shauna either. I smiled. “Sounds good. Meet you over there?”

  “Sure.”

  “To the Batmobile,” Jay said, grinning.

  The drive to the disc golf course was mellow. Jay told me a story about one of his employees who made up increasingly far-fetched excuses about why she had to miss work. I remembered to laugh at the right times. I even meant it. But I could have laughed harder and meant it more if I weren’t distracted about how the next two hours were about to go down.

  When we climbed out at the disc golf course, we had only a couple of minutes to sit on the grass and stretch before Will’s car pulled up too.

  “Stretching?” he called. “You guys are taking this hard core. I feel like I need to flex my arms or something, suck in and try to look intimidating.”

  “I’m not getting my running stretch, so I’m taking it here,” I said.

  “I’m doing whatever Hannah does so she doesn’t get a competitive edge,” Jay mumbled to his knees as he worked on his quads.

  Will had crossed to Shauna’s door and opened it for her, and she followed him to the sidewalk and smiled at us. “I’m ready,” she said. “Stretching isn’t going to help me.”

  Will set down the gym bag he’d slung over his shoulder and unzipped it to retrieve the Frisbee-shaped discs. “I’ll do my best to match the right disc with the right golfer if you all promise not to accuse me of cheating.”

  “I’m sure the other expert here will keep you honest,” Jay said, nudging my shoulder.

  Ha. Will and I were being so far from honest about everything but disc golf right now that it was laughably ironic. But I nodded. “I’m watching you, neighbor.”

  Will handed everyone their own disc and explained the rules.

  “So the rules are basically to get the disc in the baskets in the least amount of throws?” Jay asked.

  “Basically,” Will said.

  Shauna groaned, and Jay laughed. “This is going to go so badly,” Shauna said, her voice sad. I had to grin. She was pretty funny.

  As we walked toward the first basket, Will stopped to tie his shoe, and I hung back long enough for Jay and Shauna to get out of earshot. I could only th
ink of one way to possibly come off acting normal during this potential fiasco. I stooped down to “tie” my shoe too. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re Dave to me today. That’s how I have to treat you. It’ll work.” I jogged to catch Jay before Will could answer.

  At the first basket, Will shot first. Jay and Shauna each fell pretty far short of Will’s mark. I got pretty close though.

  Jay high-fived me. “That was awesome, babe. I don’t think this is going to be my new sport though.”

  The whole course was like that, Will patiently coaching Shauna as she improved slowly and Jay not being that invested in the game. He laughed every time his shots fell short. It wasn’t that he was terrible—he had some natural athleticism—but he didn’t listen to any of the coaching Will was giving Shauna, so his game stayed where it was. It was totally different from the dozen times I’d played with Dave and Will, who would push harder and trash talk worse than boxers before a big fight.

  The change with Jay was nice. I didn’t feel an all-consuming passion to shut his mouth with killer shots like I did with Dave and Will. I easily stayed in second place through the end of the game.

  I talked to Will only as often as I needed to so it wouldn’t occur to anyone to think I was avoiding him. By the time we reached the last basket and watched his effortless win, I was breathing easier. I’d survived. It had been okay. I met Will’s eyes on purpose for the first time when we went to retrieve our discs from the basket. “Thanks,” I said, finding a real smile and offering it to him.

  He only gave me a short nod before he pulled his disc out and headed back to Shauna. What the heck? Why was he being all prickly? We’d pulled it off. We should be slapping high fives.

  “Let’s grab lunch,” Jay said. “It’s almost noon, and my stomach is being pretty vocal about it.”

  “Yes, to food!” Shauna called.

  Will reached them before answering, and I trailed him, trying to make sense of the stress tensing his shoulders, but his voice was relaxed when he spoke to Jay. “That’s a great idea. Shauna was mentioning a great sushi place.”

  So that was what he was up to. He was handing me an exit, and I could see as his glance flickered toward me and away again that he was expecting me to take it and run.

  Which I definitely would. “Sounds great, but I’m not into sushi. You guys have fun though. I think I’ll talk Jay here into beef brisket.”

  “Oh, we don’t have to do sushi,” Shauna said. “I like brisket.”

  “I have my stomach set on sushi now,” Will said. “Looks like we’re breaking this party up.”

  I nodded like I was agreeing, but I hoped Will understood that I was offering him a thank you. His tiny smile told me he got it.

  “Beef brisket it is, babe.” Jay held his hand out, and for me, it was a lifeline.

  “See you guys later,” I said, waving to Shauna, who offered us a big smile, and Will, who barely nodded again.

  Lunch with Jay was good, although I kept losing the thread of the conversation. After the third time, Jay took my hand across the table, smiled, looked down at my half-eaten brisket sandwich, and then looked back up to me. “Whoever it was, he’s an idiot.”

  I colored. “Sorry, what?”

  “I’m saying that whoever didn’t have the common sense to recognize what he had doesn’t deserve you.”

  The words were designed to make me smile, but instead they spiked my anxiety. “Jay, I—”

  He let go of me to hold up both palms in a “stop” gesture. “Don’t stress. I know. You’re a mess. I’m not misunderstanding the situation if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  It was exactly what I was thinking.

  “I’m saying what 99 percent of dudes would tell you. You’re pretty awesome. So clearly that 1 percenter is an idiot.”

  The anxiety didn’t go away though. Sophie’s caution played through my head. “Jay, I have a good time with you every time we go out. An honestly good time. It takes me out of my head for a little while. You crack me up, and you need a trophy for always making great conversation.”

  “And I’m good kisser.”

  “So good,” I agreed, laughing at his mischievous expression. “But—”

  “Don’t say it,” he said. “Because you’re wrong, and I don’t want you to regret it. If you’re about to warn me about staying casual, don’t worry about it. I don’t need this to be anything other than what it is, so I mean it. You can relax, have a good time, and not stress about me. I can handle myself.”

  I wanted to believe him. Badly. Because if he really was getting emotionally attached to me, there was no way I could turn off my own guilt enough to ever enjoy hanging out with him again.

  He took a long swig of his drink and set the glass down to grin at me. “You don’t look convinced. So I’ll convince you. This isn’t my first time being a rebound. If I found the experience so bad, would I set myself up for it again? I’m a good guy. I accept your terms. I’m not wired to take advantage of your low ebb beyond having fun hanging out. And making out,” he said, the mischief flashing again. “But seriously, it’s fine. I’ve dated girls who are far more damaged than you. I can handle myself. It’s fine.”

  “Damaged?” I repeated. “Is this a habit?”

  “No. But after a certain point, is it even possible to find people without baggage? It’s not like I don’t have my own.”

  “I guess you’re right. Sorry I’m hauling so much with me.”

  “You’ve done a pretty good job of not unpacking it all over the place. At this point, I just know you have it and this hazy notion of what’s in it. That’s a lot different than opening and airing every piece you’ve got.”

  “Right again. I’m amazing.”

  He raised his glass to me. “You’re not half bad.”

  That made me laugh, and my appetite surged. I picked up my sandwich, happy to dig back in. The small knot in my stomach still tightened every time I tried to figure out what Will’s deal was on the course today, but I’d get to that later. For right now, it was all about Jay, and I shut the door on Will as hard as I could.

  Chapter 21

  Jay dropped me off around two. I spotted Will’s car so I made Jay let me off in the garage, and we said our good-byes in his Range Rover, where he backed up his “good kisser” brag for a few delicious minutes. But the high from that lasted only until I got to Will’s door and knocked, hard and sharp, the glow fading while I waited for him to answer.

  It only took a minute. “Hey,” he said, opening the door for me.

  “Is Shauna here?” I asked, my voice low.

  “No.”

  I pushed past him and squared off, my hands on my hips. “Why are you mad at me?”

  He studied me for a long moment before he closed the door and leaned against it. “I’m not.”

  “Then why were you so weird this morning? You almost gave us away.”

  “Gave what away?”

  I gaped at him, trying to decide if he was being serious. “You know what.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Tell me.”

  “That we . . . that you and I . . .” I shoved one hand through my hair. Why was he being so obtuse? “That we have a thing.”

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “We don’t have a thing.”

  My own head snapped back like he’d slapped me. “I didn’t mean it like a relationship. I meant that we have this complicated history, and no one is going to walk in and feel comfortable trying to be on a date with either of us while the other one is around. We pulled it off, but that could have been uncomfortable for everyone, and you weren’t helping. Why did you even agree to that? We’ve never doubled before, and suddenly you’re on two of my dates. Here’s a new rule: stop it.”

  His eyes flew open to pin me. For once, I couldn’t read his expression. It was closed and tense, and that was it. “I couldn’t figure out a way to get out of it without making a big deal about it. Like you’re doing now.”

  “Right n
ow, I need to pick the spaces we share, Will. I need time to hang out with Jay without you around, distracting me.”

  “I think that’s the last thing you need. That guy is not for you, Hannah.”

  “He’s exactly what I need. Anytime we run into each other in the hallways around here and you see me with him, I’d appreciate it if you could think of something important you need to do in the opposite direction.”

  “You absolutely do not need that guy. He’s wrong for you.”

  “I’m leaving,” I said, too irritated to sit and listen to him repeat himself. “I’m sorry it annoys you that other guys see me as a full-grown woman capable of handling myself, but that’s the reality.”

  “You want real? Fine. You said he knows he’s your rebound and he’s fine with that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he’s either a player or a knight, and both of those are bad news.”

  “I know a player when I see one. That’s totally not Jay.”

  “You’re probably right. But that makes him a knight, and that’s the worst thing for you.”

  “Do you mean a knight like the rescuing-damsels-in-distress kind? Because I’ve been in some pretty deep distress lately, so I could use some saving.”

  “Which would be great if this guy was the right match for you, but he isn’t. I’ve seen his type. He’s a fixer, wants to come in and be your shoulder to cry on, distract you with flirting, listen sympathetically. He’s not even trying to manipulate you. He’s just that dude that feels better about himself when he’s saving someone else. And he’s going to be super gentle with you, and that relationship is going to be easy for you, and you’re going to ease into it until you’re two years down the road, bored to death, and looking back on wasted time.”

  I curled my hands into fists. “Wrong. He’s hilarious and fun. We have a good time together. We have great conversations, and he makes me laugh all the time. Stop trying to ruin this.”

  “I’m not. I’m trying to help you. This isn’t me playing Dave. This is me being your friend. Here to help. So listen, please? Please? Because I know this kind of guy pretty well, but I know you extremely well. And I watched him calling you babe today and putting his hands all over you. He’s getting attached. What he’s getting attached to is being needed. That would be okay with me if it’s actually what you needed. It’s not. You don’t need a guy who tells you everything you do is a good job when you’re not even pushing yourself. You don’t need a guy who couldn’t care less about winning or losing.”