She helps herself to one of my dumplings and smiles. “That was awfully sweet of Justin.”

I elbow her in the ribs under the table and force a smile. She gets a little too chatty when she’s drunk and I cannot afford to have something slip out of her mouth unwarranted.

But she’s right. I can’t help but wonder about his intentions. Is it really just because I got dumped or is it because he does remember what happened that night and feels badly?

“Owen seems to be enjoying himself,” Becca says, nodding once to my brother as he meets her eyes and smiles.

“He usually does,” I murmur.

That’s a true statement. My brother can find joy in the most mundane moments. I’m pretty sure going to the dentist’s office with my brother would be fun. Scratch that, I know it is. He kept me entertained throughout our entire childhood.

Normally the talk turns to hockey with our group, but tonight Bailey, Owen and Asher are in some deep conversation about which movies from our childhood were the best.

“Harry Potter,” I shout to a chorus of groans.

“God, you’re so young, Elise,” Sara says.

I roll my eyes. Most of our group is in their late twenties while I just turned twenty-four a few weeks ago. “Whatever.”

“Mary Poppins is my jam,” Becca announces.

“The remake or the original?” Owen asks.

She plants one hand over her heart in mock disgust. ”The original.”

“Mary Poppins was hot,” Asher adds, agreeing with her, but for entirely the wrong reason.

Becca laughs beside me.

“Hey, Becca,” my brother calls down to our end of the table. “You hear about the rookie?” He’s grinning.

“Yup. Crash and burn.” She makes a blowing up motion with her hands.

Trading insider gossip is their currency. The juicier the better. I’m really glad that Becca has my brother. She’s been through a lot, and he’s like a big brother to her too.

After another round, I’ve gotten tipsier than expected and I suddenly stand. “I need to get home. I have to teach preschool in the morning.”

“So responsible,” Sara mutters. “And I better go too. I’ve gotta lawyer it up in court tomorrow.” She stands, grabbing her purse from the back of the chair. “Want to share an Uber?”

Justin rises to his feet. “I can take Elise. Splitting an Uber doesn’t work—she lives on the other side of town.”

Owen looks at him curiously. “You’ve only had water, right?”

Justin nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Apparently the fate of my journey home has been decided. Owen nods his consent and Justin rises, fishing his car keys out from the pocket of his dark jeans.

I rise on shaky legs, suddenly wishing I hadn’t drank quite so much, and lean down to give Owen a kiss on the cheek. “Night,” I murmur. “Make sure Becca gets home safe.”

“Will do,” Owen says, and then he flashes a pointed look at Justin. “Be careful with my little sister, she’s precious cargo.”

Justin looks directly at him, communicating something I don’t understand. “I know, don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”

Owen nods. “I’ve got her tab.”

Becca—God bless her, she is the world’s worst drunk person—leans over to me and whispers loudly, “You okay? This could be a good thing, right?”

I nod tightly, and dart away, terrified of what else she might whisper-yell in my direction.

As I follow Justin to the door, part of me thinks Becca could be right. It might be good for us to talk. It’s been months, we need to clear the air at some point. Don’t we?

Even if I want to be mad at him, part of me still misses his friendship.

As I follow him to the car, I’m transported back to one of the many times Justin came to my rescue.

I had just turned fifteen, and was out on my first date, unbeknownst to my parents. Gabe was a sophomore, and I was a freshman. He had his own car, and I thought he was the coolest, hottest guy in school. He wasn’t anywhere near Justin-level hotness, but since Justin had yet to notice that I was growing up, I had to take what I could get. Gabe and I went to a party, and unfortunately for me, he’d started drinking. The longer the night wore on, the more my anxiety started to grow. I knew I couldn’t get in the car with him later, which meant I had no way to get home. Since I was afraid to call Owen, I did the next best thing. I called Justin and he was there within fifteen minutes, hauling Gabe outside and ripping him a new one. He was so intense, so angry, but also so sweet with me. I recall the way his fingers trembled as he buckled me into the passenger seat.

Blinking away the memory, I climb into the black SUV beside him. Just before he closes my door, his eyes meet mine, and I swear I see in them the same look he gave me that night we had sex. But then the door shuts and he walks around to his side of the car.

“Buckle up.” His tone is neutral, but a little guarded and I have the strangest feeling he’s upset about something.

He pulls onto the road, and the silence stretches between us. It’s tense, and awkward. We never used to be like this. God, why did I agree to come with him? Oh yeah because I’m drunk and I have no self-control when it comes to Justin Fucking Brady.

“Talk to me E,” he finally says, fingers curling around the steering wheel.

“What do you want to talk about?” I try to keep my tone casual, but I’m terrified that I know exactly what he wants to talk about.

“It’s just... shouldn’t we clear the air?”

“About?” I blink at him.

He’s going to have to spell it out for me. I’m done assuming where this man is concerned. I assumed he was into me that night, but I clearly read that wrong. And I won’t repeat the same mistake twice.

“Oh, I don’t know. How about that time you woke up in my bed naked?” His deep voice hits me straight in the chest.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it.” My tone is firm as feelings that have been buried for months rise to the surface.

He waits at the light, making a left-hand turn without saying anything just yet.

Well that’s just fucking perfect. “It’s fine, Justin. We don’t have to talk about anything.” I lean my head back against the headrest and close my eyes while my heart hammers out an uneven rhythm in my chest.

9

* * *

Broken Hearts and Broken Promises

Justin

Well this is an interesting turn of events. My current status? I have a drunk Elise sitting next to me in the cab of my dark SUV as we cruise toward her apartment across town.

Elise, resting her head against the headrest, inhales audibly, letting her breath out slowly. “It smells like you in here.”

I make a confused face. “Ah … my hockey bag’s in the back, so I’m guessing that’s not a compliment.” Hockey equipment is about the worst smelling thing you can imagine, and I’m about to mutter an apology when she shakes her head.

“No. It smells like your cologne. Hermès Woods, right?”

I nod. How the fuck does she know what kind of cologne I wear?

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

She stares out the window, lost in thought while I focus on not fucking crashing the car. This is a bit surreal being alone with her after all this time, and Owen’s words of warning ring through my head.

I’ve been half hard since she followed me out of the bar, as if my dick remembers the last time we were alone together, and he’s ready to be moved from the bench and be put in the game. And the fact that she’s still sitting there breathing in my scent like it’s her own personal version of heaven isn’t helping things.

Us alone together plus alcohol was how everything got so fucked up last time. I can’t let myself repeat our mistakes. I just told her brother that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. And I’m every form of bad that could possibly happen to her. But damn if I don’t like having her close. I’m tempted to slow the car just to draw out my time with her. Weird, I know.

Satisfied with the radio station she’s found, she stops fiddling with the controls and sits back in her seat, hands resting on her thighs.

“So this breakup…” I attempt small talk. “You okay?”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I’m fine. And you don’t have to pretend you’re worried about me.”

Pretend? Is she high right now?

I know full well that I’m responsible for some, fuck most, of the turmoil in her life over the past few months, and I hate the thought that I’m responsible for this too.

She’s the one bright spot in my life, and I can’t handle knowing she’s sad. I would make it my personal mission in life to make her happy if I could. Especially since I know I’m at least partly responsible for her heartbreak.

I pull the car to the side of the road, and turn to face her, hands still gripping the wheel so I don’t do anything stupid like reach over and touch her.

“I’m not pretending, Elise. I care about you. I always have. Now let’s try this again. Are you okay?” I enunciate each word slowly, letting them sink in.