Page 44
TWENTY
Collins
The next day, I text Nina to see if I can swing by that evening. I need to debrief with my best friend about what happened with Ansel last night. I’m afraid of what she might think, what she might say, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I need to talk to someone about these decisions I’m making.
I couldn’t get last night out of my head all day. I was distracted at work, second-guessing whether confessing my feelings to Ansel was the right thing to do, even though I can’t stop the thoughts of dry-humping him on my couch from giving me a little bolt of electricity between my thighs every time.
“All right, he’s down for the count.” Nina joins me in her living room after putting Jacob to bed.
I’m nestled in the corner of her couch with a glass of white wine. She takes the other end of the couch and rests her back against the armrest so that we’re facing each other.
“So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” She arches a dark eyebrow.
My own draw down. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I know you didn’t ask to come here tonight because you were bored or wanted company.”
“Maybe I just wanted to hang with my best friend.”
She tilts her head. “You haven’t done that since before Caleb died.” I open my mouth to speak, but she raises both hands. “I get it, I understand why. And if that’s all you’re here for, then that’s cool. But I suspect that something is going on.”
I sigh, shoulders slumping. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
She gives me a smug smile, and I toss the pillow at her. She laughs but sobers quickly. “Collins, you know I’m here for you. Now what’s going on?”
I sip my wine for courage. “You know how Ansel has been coming to all these activities with me to keep me company and get me out in the world again?” I wait until she nods before I continue. “Something happened the other night, and then again last night.”
Her eyes go wide, and her head tips down.
“We kissed in his truck when he dropped me off one night, and then last night we made out on my couch.”
It sounds so juvenile, phrasing it like that, but there’s zero chance I’m going to tell Nina I came from grinding on his lap while fully clothed like a cat in heat.
I cringe and await her judgment.
“Is he a good kisser?”
“Nina!”
“What? I have to live vicariously through you.”
“Nina, I just told you that I made out with my deceased husband’s best friend.”
“Exactly.”
I shake my head. “That’s not the point.”
“Stop avoiding the question and answer.”
“Yes, all right. He’s a great kisser.” Probably the best kisser I’ve ever made out with, but I’m not going to say that. It’s disrespectful to Caleb.
She throws her head back and laughs, kicking her feet. “I knew it, I knew it! He just has that look, you know?”
I do know now, although I never thought that about Caleb, but I give her a look as if I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“I still can’t believe it happened.” My eyes close, and my lips press together.
“But you want it to happen again, right?” She tosses that pillow back at me, and it hits me on the head.
