The next morning, slightly hungover from finishing an entire case of beer with Justin, Hugh texted Blair. He gave her the address to the apartment and told her to swing by that evening so they could talk. As he passed the morning finding his few measly kitchen supplies and making a list of shit he needed to buy, he wondered if she was being truthful about wanting to talk to him about where their lives had gone.

Around noon, she finally texted him back saying she would be by around seven with beer. He glanced around his place and asked for another hour to be sure it was decent. She sent back a smiley face and said eight was fine.

He grinned at the message and cleaned up the place, set up his living room, and dug out some candles he found in one of the boxes. Part of his mind tried to keep him in check and remind himself that this would probably not turn into a romantic evening, but the other half of him was dying to finish what they’d started at her house. His nerves getting the better of him, he paced around his apartment until he needed to get out of the suddenly cramped space and buy some groceries for his fridge and a few other odds and ends, such as silverware. And plates. And glasses.

“Who knew kitchens needed so much shit?” he muttered as he filled his cart at the local Bed Bath & Beyond with random things he thought he might need.

He picked up a few wine glasses as well as more candles, a lighter, speakers he could hook his phone up to for music, and some fresh sheets. His bathroom lacked several necessities as well, so he made a trip back around for a trash can, shower curtain, and other essentials. Three hundred dollars later, he walked out of there loaded down with more things to unpack, but he would be distracted from his fear of how tonight would go.

The throw pillows were fluffed, and around seven-thirty, he popped a bottle of red wine to let it breathe, set out two glasses, lit the candles scattered around his apartment, and pre-heated the oven for the lasagna he’d bought. It might not be homemade, but he remembered Blair had a soft spot for pasta and knew he couldn’t cook to save his life.

Watching the minutes tick by, he nearly took a shot of whiskey to calm his jittery body when someone knocked on his front door. Twenty minutes early. He breathed out his nose a few times and walked to the door. His hand grabbed the knob as his other slid back the deadbolt.

“You can do this, you’re just talking,” he reminded himself, but the flickering candles around him revealed he wished this would be so much more.

When he opened the door, it wasn’t Blair’s curly hair and blue eyes there to greet him.

“Good, you’re home. Surprise!” Bethany squealed, holding up a bottle of wine in one hand and a small gift bag in the other. A bright pink gift bag. She latched onto him and kissed his cheek. He felt the lipstick print she left behind.

“Bethany, what are you doing here?” he asked and removed her arms gently from his shoulders. She tried to push past him into his apartment, but he blocked the doorway. “How do you know where I live?”

“You told Justin to tell me,” she explained. “He said to swing by tonight because you were lonely. I can remedy that, you know. Just like I did the first time?”

“First and last time,” he reminded her as regret left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’re good for each other.”

“You wouldn’t know because you’ve never given us a chance. Come on, let me in and I can show you what being with me can be like. That was one night. Think about what I could do with a few days. Besides, it’s spring break. You’re supposed to let loose and have some fun,” she purred, smashing her body into his.

She spun them around so she was in the apartment door and glanced over her shoulder. “And look. You were expecting me. Candles—and is that wine I see?”

“Bethany, please leave,” he said firmly. “I was not expecting you.”

Her bright red lipstick lips pulled into a pout. “Then who were you expecting?”

“No one. Maybe I simply like wine and candles.” He pulled her out of his apartment and reached for the door but missed the handle when she slammed him back into the door. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a taste of what’s in this little gift bag of mine.” She pressed her lips to his and he froze, his arms falling to his sides as he kept his lips perfectly still. He finally reached for her hips and pushed her away from him. “What? Why don’t you want me?”

“Because I don’t,” he snapped, wiping his mouth with his arm. “You need to leave, right now.”

“Or what?” she challenged.

Hugh gritted his teeth, glancing at the clock in his apartment. Blair would be here any second, and if he couldn’t get rid of Bethany, he didn’t stand a chance of this night going as planned.

* * *

Blair checked the address on her phone and climbed the steps up to the second floor. The apartment building was modernized but still let brick walls show through here and there. She liked it and wondered if there was another apartment she could rent.

Or you could take him up on his offer and stay with him for a while.

Living with Hugh could either be really good or really, really bad. They had to get through tonight first, then she would let her hopes grow that maybe the time was right for them to pick up where they left off. She reached the second floor, carrying a six pack of Kentucky Ale—his favorite—and a small gift bag in the same hand. She hadn’t planned on getting him anything, but she printed out one of the photographs of the treehouse at the last second and framed it in the parking lot.

Voices arguing drew her attention, and her frown deepened when she recognized one as Hugh’s. She turned the corner and her feet halted so suddenly she almost toppled over.

Hugh stood in the hallway with Bethany crushed to his body, kissing. They were kissing. She didn’t make a sound as she absorbed the scene. Her first instinct was to drop the beer and run, pissed that she walked up on him with the one woman Blair could not stand. After a deep breath to check her anger, she realized Hugh was desperately trying to shove the woman away, but she threw herself at him again.

Three years of pent up rage at him for choosing to be with that bimbo boiled over.

“Hey, bitch,” Blair snapped, and Bethany’s head whipped to the right, followed by Hugh’s.

Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her lip in disgust, taking in Blair’s casual jeans filled with holes and her oversized sweater. “Blair Fraser. Walk away, honey. I’ve got everything under control.”

“I’m pretty sure attacking my best friend is not under control,” she argued, marching closer. “Get away from him before I make you regret kissing him.” She thrust the six pack and gift bag in Hugh’s hands, putting herself between the two of them, her hands on her hips.

Bethany gasped. “How dare you?”

“How dare I? Hate to break it to you, honey, but he invited me over tonight, not you. Get lost.”

“No, I was told he wanted to see me.”

“By Justin,” Hugh muttered. “Not me. Go home, or I’m calling the cops.”

Her lips thinned and she thrust her chin in the air. “You know what you’re throwing away by being with this…this backstabbing slut? Where was she the night you needed her, huh? Where? Too busy, so you came to me and I took care of you.”

Hugh’s cheeks burned bright red as a sharp pang of jealous struck Blair’s heart. “A mistake I never should have made.” He tugged on Blair’s elbow and she backed into the apartment. He followed and slammed the door in Bethany’s face. He locked it quickly, and the door knob turned as Bethany tried to get inside.

“This isn’t over!” she yelled. “You’ll realize what type of person she is and you’ll beg me to take you back!”

“Not on your life!” Hugh shot back.

He and Blair pressed their ears to the door, listening for Bethany’s heels clicking down the hallway. Their faces were close, and when their eyes met, laughter bubbled in her. Blair couldn’t hold it back and it burst forth, loud and long. Hugh’s eyes widened in surprise before he joined in, pushing away from the door.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “She showed up and threw herself at me.”

“I noticed. I guess you made quite a first impression.” She hadn’t meant to say it and backed away from Hugh, tossing her pack on the chair and shoving her hands in her butt pockets. His eyes followed her, but she wanted a civil night. “Nice place. I like it.”

“I knew you would. A little bit of the old with a little bit of the new.” He carried the beer into the kitchen and placed it in the fridge. She wandered the space and his lack of decoration. “I brought you a picture you might like.”

He ruffled through the tissue paper and an amused grin lit his face as he stared at the present. “The treehouse. We had some good times there.”

“Yeah, we did. I hope the frame’s all right. I wasn’t sure if your style was the same or not.”

He set it up on the breakfast bar and motioned to the wine. She nodded and he poured two glasses. “My tastes are probably one thing that hasn’t changed.”

She accepted the glass and clinked it against his. “To your new home. May you not be forever stalked by Bethany.”

“Blair, listen, I seriously did not tell her to come here.”

“No, Justin did.” She sipped her wine, telling herself quietly not to lose it so soon. “Did he know I would come over tonight?”

“I texted him, yeah, but I never thought he would tell her to crash our evening together.”

“And the candles? The wine and the frozen lasagna?” she asked. “I thought we were going to talk, but this looks like you’re ready for a date.”

He set his glass down hard on the counter. “I wanted it to be a nice evening. Between friends.” He refilled his glass though it wasn’t even half empty yet and drained half of it in one gulp. “Can’t we work on that? Being friends again?”

“Sure we can, after I know you’re not really seeing that bitch.”

Blair bit her tongue the second the words left her mouth, but it was too late to take them back. She finished her wine and set the glass on the counter, but he didn’t pour her any more. He stared at her, his body stiff, feeling regret and anger of his own.

“I didn’t mean to sleep with her that night,” he muttered.

“Oh no? You fell and your dick landed in her vagina?” she jested, but there was no amusement in her tone. “You went to her when you couldn’t find me and you slept with her. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

“It’s not like we were an exclusive couple, not really,” he argued.

“And whose fault was that?” she threw back. “I recall several times having that conversation, but every time you turned me down. You made up some excuse and then you went and fucked someone like Bethany Jones. Anyone else and I might not have cared so much, but her?”

“Because you’re any better.” He leaned against the counter, nostrils flaring and his knuckles white as he gripped the edge. “You heard what I did, and instead of coming to me—talking to me—you went and slept with some random guy. I found out from five other people, Blair. You wanted to get me back? Well congratulations. You did. You nailed me right in the gut. I was trying to find a way to tell you, to explain and apologize, but you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Why would I?” She backed away from the counter. “I thought we had something special going on, our lifelong friendship that was growing into something more. But you didn’t want it. So why would I listen?”

“What are you talking about?”

She almost choked on the words as hot tears burned in her eyes. “You blame me for what happened to you. You blame me for talking you into standing up to your parents and for what they did to you. You blame me for not being there,” she whispered, the truth tearing her up inside. “It’s all my fault and I never had a right to be mad at you. I’m sorry.” As sobs threatened to cut off any more words, she rushed to grab her pack off the chair and took off out the door.

How could she believe it was a good idea to bring up the past? They weren’t ready to talk about what happened, not really. She hurt him, and admitting it out loud was too painful. Blair barely made it ten steps before she leaned against the wall for support as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. She clutched her pack for some semblance of comfort. He might have been the one to wait on a relationship, but the facts were clear. He’d been there for her and she hadn’t been there for him.

The door opened behind her but she refused to turn and face Hugh. She sensed him without even having to look over her shoulder. He grabbed her shoulder, but she faced away from him.

“Blair, please, come back inside,” he whispered, his voice strained.

“Why? I messed this up for you. I never understood what you were putting on the line. I failed you,” she cried.

“No, don’t you dare try to take all the blame for this. We both fucked up, and I’m not letting you walk away from me again.” He spun her around, and she had no choice but to stare into those hazel eyes no longer filled with anger but with pain and the friendship she’d missed the last three years. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize.”

“But I am because it’s the right thing to do.”

She wiped her face roughly with one hand, hiccupping as the wall that held her pain crashed around her. “I’m sorry, too. So sorry, Hugh.”

“Come on,” he urged and guided her back inside his apartment, closed the door, and took her pack from her. “I can’t believe you still have this old thing.” He admired it, running his fingers over the patches she’d sewn onto it and the tears she wasn’t able to fix.

“I had no reason to get rid of it.”

“I figured you hated me after what happened.”

Blair shrugged one shoulder. “I did, but I missed you more than anything—the old you.”

The glow from the candles filled the apartment, and she realized he’d dimmed the other lights. Her lips curled into a grin at the small, flickering lights in the darkness, keeping the shadows at bay.

“Fireflies,” she whispered.

“You were always the best at catching them.”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone at night.” His hand slipped into hers and she leaned against his side. Her eyes closed and every muscle relaxed to be so near him again. Each breath was a release of the past anger, loss, and guilt at what they had done to each other because neither had all the facts. Hugh still didn’t. “There’s one more thing I have to tell you.”

“It can wait,” he assured her, but she shook her head.

“No, it can’t. After you went to Bethany for comfort, I uh…I…”

He cupped her face in his hands. “It’s okay. I know, remember?’

“No, you don’t.” She smiled shyly. “I made it up.”

His brow wrinkled. “Made what up?”

“I was so jealous, so angry because I thought you wanted to be with Bethany over me—for good, you know—so I made it all up.” She covered his hands with hers. “I never slept with anyone, Hugh, not ever. I hoped… I wanted it to be you.” Her cheeks burned and she shuffled her feet, her toes curling in her boots as Hugh’s face transformed before her eyes.

His demeanor softened and his eyes shone with desire for her. His lips parted on a breath, and she tried to tell him without words that she had waited for him, holding out in the slim chance they would find their way back to each other again. They’d been stupid to think either could run from the strong emotions linking them together. He moved in to kiss her when the oven beeped and he cursed.

“I guess I should get that,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers.

She nodded. “You might not want to burn your first apartment down.”

“Hold that thought.” He hurried to the kitchen and told her to make herself at home.

There was enough of a partition that he couldn’t see her, and Blair unzipped her boots quietly and set them aside, followed by her jeans. She reached under her oversized sweater and unhooked her bra, pulling the straps down her arms and leaving her breasts bare beneath the warm fabric. The black lace, cheeky panties barely covered her ass, and she watched his back as he pulled the lasagna from the oven, muttering when he burned his finger.

“Do you mind if put some music on?” she asked, seeing his phone lying on the coffee table and turning on the speakers.

“Go for it. I’m almost finished.”

“Take your time.” She pulled up YouTube and selected a melodic dubstep live station to set the mood. The music was magical and filled the apartment. They used to listen to this type of stuff all through high school and did their homework to it. They even made out to it a time or two.

She was setting the phone down when she heard a sharp intake of breath. “Damn,” he growled.

Blair spun around so he could see her bare legs and tugged the shoulder of her sweater down to reveal more naked skin. “I thought we could have dessert first, if you were in the mood. Unless I’m moving too fast,” she added as panic threatened to creep in when Hugh didn’t move. “I can put my pants back on. I wasn’t thinking.”

Too fast, too damn fast, you moron, she scolded herself mentally, but as she reached for her jeans, Hugh suddenly stopped her. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it, and moved around languidly to nibble and suck at her palm. She gasped as his teeth grazed the mound of her thumb and he sucked her finger into his mouth. A shiver of pure lust rolled over her body and his other arm wrapped around her waist.

“For the record,” he said quietly, still kissing her fingers, her knuckles, and her wrist, “I was never with anyone else after that night.”

“No?” she asked surprised.

“No. The only woman I wanted was you. Is you.”

Blair melted at his words, and when his lips found hers, she was swept away by the friendship she thought she’d lost. But it was so much more than that. His kiss said his feelings ran much deeper than simply being friends, and she wanted so much to explore those feelings, his and hers. He hugged her to him and she wrapped her arms around his neck, needing him as close as she could get him so this moment could find a way to last forever.