She squeezes back. "Does this mean you're coming to Thanksgiving?"
"I think so."
"And Sunday dinners?"
I laugh as I step backward. "Maybe."
"Mom will be over the moon."
"I only said maybe."
Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "You said it like a yes."
I smile too. I want that. I want things to be okay with us. With my parents.
She takes in my expression. "No offense, but you look miserable."
"I am."
"We have coffee. Good coffee. Most people here drink a ton of it. Or smoke. Or both." She moves closer to the table. Grabs a paper cup and fills it with java. "You still take it black?"
"Yeah, thanks."
She hands me the first cup, turns back to the table to pour a second. "What happened with Iris?"
"It's a long story."
She fixes her coffee with half-and-half and sugar. "What's the short version?"
"I thought I didn't care about anything that had happened before. That the past was the past. I told her as much every time she tried to confess. I stopped her."
She nods understandable.
"But I did care."
"Of course."
"Why?" I need to understand this. I need to know how I could have meant those words when they feel like such bullshit now.
"Walker. You saw me almost die. Twice." She takes a long sip. "Of course you're going to be nervous your girlfriend could be in the same place."
"It's more than that."
"What?"
I'm not sure. My coffee doesn't have any answers. But it is good. "I thought I knew her."
"Do you?"
"Yeah." I know the way she giggles when she falls off my surfboard. And how she squeals when I pick her up. And that shy smile when I tease her about Star Wars. But I didn't know this. I didn't have a clue.
Bree leans against the table. "How long were you dating?"
"A few months. But it feels like more. I… I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her."
She makes an aww sound and presses her hand to her heart. "Really?"
"Yeah."