there along the sidewalk, but they didn’t pay us any attention. Remy’s posture seemed to change as he remembered we weren’t alone, and he looked down at his feet as we walked.
“Jesus Christ. I’m the worst at flirting. I once spilled a drink on a guy who was trying to hit on me.”
That made me frown. “How did he know?”
“Um…” Remy rubbed a hand over his face. “We were at Brit’s. He was a friend of hers who would be discreet. She helped with that.”
Jealousy scorched my skin, all of my insides. It was ridiculous. Obviously Remy had fucked other people. I had, a lot of them. But hearing it made my hands fist and my head swim. “Well, that’s good. That you had someone to…”
We turned into the park, which was fairly empty.
“It was only a couple of times. It wasn’t like us. I haven’t had anything like us.”
My muscles loosened without any direction from me. Fuck, I needed to get ahold of myself. It shouldn’t matter who Remy had been with or what he’d done. Still, I admitted, “I haven’t either.”
He stumbled, and my arm darted out to grab him. It was like the touch was a time machine, transporting us back to that first night when he tripped and I caught him. His skin felt familiar, and his heat, like it always had, different because it was his. We were staring at each other, and he licked his lip. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him. If it had been anyone else, I would have, I’d have just gone for it because there was no doubt in my mind he wanted the same thing, but instead I let go of him and cleared my throat. “Better watch your step.”
“Stop making me trip in parks,” he teased. Like he was trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, and it shouldn’t have been, but it was.
“Anyway, obviously, I’ve been with people—just like you—dates and fuck buddies, friends with benefits; some of them lasted a few months, some a night, but nothing like that.” I didn’t want anything serious. Not again. I almost hadn’t survived it the first time.
“Guys too?” he asked, then, “It’s not my business. I shouldn’t have asked that.”
“Yeah, Rem. Guys too. Those were more one-night things, though, hookups no one knew about.”
We were both quiet for a few moments while we walked along the trail. It led through the main part of the park and into a more wooded area. Every once in a while, someone would pass by and say hi, but other than that, it was only us.
“I got a car,” he said, finally breaking the heavy tension surrounding us.
“Yeah, I saw it. Looks like it runs better than the old one. Not the car a typical millionaire drives, but you know, at least it doesn’t break down.” I winked, and he rolled his eyes.
“You know I don’t like flashy shit.”
“Yeah, I know.” It was one of my favorite things about him. “So that’s what you’ve been doing since we last talked? Buying a car?”
“Well, not only that. I talked to Brittany. I worked on the house. It’s coming together real nice. And I…wrote a song. The first one I’ve written in…I can’t tell you how long. It’s not perfect, but it feels good, like the bones are there and I just have to build up the muscle some.”
His voice was a little louder, stronger, with that familiar tremble of excitement he carried when he was passionate about music. It was a reminder that music would always be the most important thing to him—more than me, more than himself. Just the music.
“That’s good. I’m glad for you.” And I was, but there was a bitter taste to my words too. It made me a dick, but I was jealous it was Brittany he talked to, when it used to be me.
“I’m doing this all wrong.” Remy shook his head. “You know how I get—sometimes I have to work through things, settle into them, so that’s what I did.”
We were deeper onto the trail now. There was the sound of birds and squirrels in the trees, but nothing else. “What did you figure out?” That he was leaving? That he couldn’t do this, couldn’t even have the friendship with me or be in Havenwood?
“Hey, Lawson! How you doing?”
Remy jumped, the voice surprising him.
I turned and said, “Afternoon, Ms. Jones. Hey, Taffy. How are you guys?” Her little poodle jumped up on my legs. “I’m gonna