Come to Me Quietly (Closer to You #1)(22)
Author: A.L. Jackson

“Um, yeah, you’re probably going to hear me complain about it for the rest of our lives. There will be no shaking Rhode Island from my bones just like there’s no shaking Phoenix from yours.”

“Touché.” I smirked, and she laughed before she leaned her elbows on the small bistro table between us.

“I feel like I haven’t hung out with you in forever. I miss you,” she said. She took another sip from her straw, and I went for mine. We sat outside a little coffee shop on Mill, watching people as they ambled down the busy street. This was the first day we’d had to ourselves since the night when my life had been tilted on its axis.

Thrown, really. I no longer knew where I stood.

Megan and I had shared a few texts, but our work schedules seemed to always conflict, and we hadn’t really connected in the three weeks that had passed.

“I know. It’s ridiculous I haven’t talked to you in so long.” My brow piqued in question as I turned in her direction. “So, how are things with Sam?”

She shrugged and busied herself with her straw. Sadness wove through her sigh. “I always promised myself I’d never be that girl… the needy one who’d do anything to win that little bit of attention that some guy is willing to give her.” She released a bitter laugh. It was a little angry and a lot disappointed. She offered me a telling smile. “I didn’t make him work for it, Aly.” She blew out a breath. “I should have listened to you. Now it’s like I’m sitting around waiting for… something… anything. Sometimes it seems like he’s totally into me, and the next it’s like he couldn’t care less that I exist.” She shook her head at herself. “So stupid.”

I swiveled toward her and leaned on the table. I couldn’t stand this coming from her. Guilt twisted in me, because I should have realized something was going on when I received her texts. I should have been there for her.

She chewed at her lip. “You know that’s not me, right?”

“Megan.” I frowned and edged in closer. “I’m not going to judge you. You know me better than that. We never know how things are going to turn out, and more important than that, we can’t help how we feel.”

She nodded, but the small jerks of her head resonated with shame. “But you’ve always been so strong. You’ve never allowed yourself to become vulnerable like that. I mean, sometimes it makes me worry about you and I get scared you’re never going to find someone to love because you won’t put yourself out there to be loved. But mostly, I’ve just admired you.”

Another stab of guilt. I’d always been vulnerable. I’d just never been honest enough to allow her to see it. “I guess I’ve been holding out for the right guy, Megan. We all find them at different times and in different ways.”

Only I found mine when I was fourteen. A flutter swam through my being, Jared’s youthful smile forever etched in my mind. Really, I’d known him my entire life. I found him in almost every memory I had.

Confusion creased Megan’s brow. “How will we ever know when it’s right?”

Pursing my lips, I took a chance at what I knew as my own truth. “I think we’ll just know.”

She groaned and dropped her forehead to the table. “But this feels so right… and so completely wrong.”

Quiet laughter spilled from my mouth. “You have it bad, Megan.”

She grinned up at me from her resting place on the table. “Pathetic, aren’t I?”

“Nah.” I shook my head. “It isn’t worth it if it doesn’t hurt a little.”

She rose, nodding as if those were the most important words I’d ever said.

Or perhaps the most foolish.

“So, what about you? Have you been hanging out with Gabe?”

Pausing, I searched for what to say before I finally answered. “No. I’ve been busy at work and at home.”

Speculation lifted her brow, and I knew the questions were coming. “Busy at home, huh? Does this have anything to do with this mysterious visitor who showed up a couple of weeks ago? One I’ve never even heard of before? Hmm?” She drew this out in a suggestive prod. She struggled for a look of offense. I thought she might be too innocently beautiful for it ever to work.

“He’s just an old friend, Megan,” I said with the least amount of defensiveness I could inject in it. No need to raise more suspicion than I already had.

“And not important enough that you ever thought to mention him to me?”

No. It was completely the opposite. He’d been so important it seemed impossible to utter his name.

“It’s not that, Megan,” I admitted. “We were all really good friends when we were younger… We grew up together. Even though Christopher was his best friend, he was my best friend. You know?”

I searched her face, wondering if she could understand. Her expression told me maybe she did. Sadness clouded my tone. “In one day, he lost it all, Megan.”

“What happened?”

“There was this accident… ” I shook my head. “He could never see past what happened and he started making some really bad choices. We all watched him fall apart and we couldn’t do anything about it. He ended up getting arrested and sent away.” I lifted one shoulder in resignation. “That was the last time I saw him.”

“So he’s the one,” she mused.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just because you keep secrets, Aly, doesn’t mean I don’t know you have them.”

I couldn’t say anything. My throat was suddenly dry.

“You care about him a lot, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I have no idea how long he’s staying, so I’ve been spending as much time with him as I can.” I didn’t mention that I would be devastated when he left.

Since we’d watched that movie in an attempt to drown out another of Christopher’s conquests, Jared had snuck into my room every night. Two weeks had passed since the night after when he’d first touched me, the hand on my face rocking something loose deep inside me. Every night he’d come to me, his knuckles lightly rapping against my door before he would silently enter into the dimness of my room. He always came when it was late, an hour or two after I’d told him and Christopher I was going to bed. I’d say good night, then lie awake in my room listening as the apartment slowly fell into silence. It was as if I could anticipate him in the moment before he knocked on my door from, a subtle tension filling the space as I waited. Why he felt the need to sneak into my room, I didn’t really know. But it was like he got it, too. The time we spent together felt like something that was our own, a secret shared between friends as the trust between us grew. I’d come to expect him just as much as he seemed to expect me, and a slow trust had begun to build between us.