“And he said he had a wonderful time with you, so please keep him on the front burner.”
“I will,” I promised before she jumped off to bang out more words.
But now the question on the front burner in my mind is how to do drinks with Tyler. I meet Penny’s eyes as I drop the tissue from the right shoe into the box. “Can you give me some advice?”
“Anything.”
“How do I know if I can trust him again? It’s only drinks, but what should I be on the lookout for? I feel like understanding men has eluded me in the last few years. My dating experience is woeful. But you’re back with Gabriel. How were you able to let go of the past?”
Penny sighs. “We didn’t have the sort of past you guys did. But even so, the way I put it behind us was to learn who he is today. What made him tick. How he was the same. How he was different. When you see Tyler, don’t just get caught up in a swirl of reminiscence. Learn about the man he’s become. See if that man is someone you want to spend time with.”
That feels way more intense than I’m ready for. I backpedal from the idea, kicking off my work flip-flops. “I’m only going out for drinks.”
Penny smirks and reins in a laugh. She holds it in so hard, it’s as if her face is about to burst.
“You don’t believe me?” I ask defensively as I slide my bare feet into the red sling-backs.
Penny erupts in laughter as the saleswoman returns with boots. “Say. That. Again,” Penny says in between gasping breaths.
“I’m only going out for drinks,” I mutter.
The rail-thin saleswoman tries to straighten out a smile, and Penny points at her. “Even Blue Suede Jane doesn’t believe it’s just drinks.”
I cock my head, eyeing one then the other. “Seriously, ladies? Both of you?”
Jane laughs sweetly and gestures to my feet as I stand up in the red heels. “Well, you are shopping for shoes. I can’t think of a bigger sign that something isn’t just drinks. A new pair of shoes means you really like a guy.”
We all let our eyes drift down to my toes. Jane gasps first, Penny clasps her hand on her mouth, and I beam at the heavenly vision before me.
The shoes are divine.
In fact, these red peep-toes are perfect for a date with a man who went to such lengths just to earn the right to drinks.
Just drinks.
Just drinks.
Just drinks.
That mantra echoes in my head as I walk to the bar, listening to a podcast on local politics. The poli-sci major in me can’t resist, and I like to be informed on the issues facing my city. But I have a harder time focusing on the words of the hosts because my heart beats faster and my skin prickles as memories fight their way to the front of my brain.
Memories I haven’t let myself linger on in ages.
At Brown, Tyler and I were a team, a pack of two, fueled by our shared desire to learn everything. We studied together, quizzing each other for our tests on modern United States history or on twentieth-century literature. We hunted for interesting lectures from guest speakers on the hottest issues of the day. We walked to and from classes together, and spent many nights in the library, hunched over our laptops.
When it came to our backgrounds, we were as different as they come. I didn’t grow up with much, and my dad took off when I was fourteen and my little brother, Caleb, was twelve. I can’t really overstate how much that sucked.
But I dealt with it and moved on, and that’s why I’m in a better spot now to be able to track him down.
At the time, though, he left us with nothing. I went to public high school outside of Tampa and busted my butt in my classes so I could go to a good school. Hard work paid off, and I nabbed a scholarship to Brown. Tyler came from money and a happy home in Los Angeles, growing up with his brother and their two parents, who ran a successful business together.
His parents had already finished saving for his full education by the time he was five.
Our drive, though, was parallel, along with our love of learning. We spent many late nights at the college snack bar, debating anything and everything. We’d share an ice cream with sprinkles, and we’d talk, then head back to my dorm, or his. Once the door closed, all the talk would vanish, and we’d find ourselves engaged in the most favorite collegiate activity of all.
Getting horizontal.
The second the clothes came undone the aspiring lawyers disappeared, and we became those people who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Skin to skin, lips to lips, we came together, and I’d never felt so close to anyone in my life. It was a perfect union of respect, desire, and love.
It was everything I’d never felt in my home, but wanted in my life.
Sometimes on weekends, we went on long drives. He had a black BMW, and during the fall, we’d get claustrophobic and take off, driving through the tree-lined neighborhoods in Providence, then beyond. We escaped a few towns over, finding hills, and hidden places, and then we’d pull over.
We got to know our way around the front and back seats of his Beemer quite well. Every time he touched me, I felt cherished. Whether in the car, the shower, the dorm, the library, the bed, or the car, he adored me.
He fought for a chance with me, and then once we were together, I was never second best. I was his equal, and that made me love him even more.
That’s what hurt so much when he broke up with me. Not the end to our plans, not his tactless and calloused word choices, not even what went down at the debate.
What hurt the most was that I’d lost him.