Remi’s comment keeps running through my mind: Or you just have nowhere else to go.

She’s right and I hate to admit it. Ever since college, I’ve thrown myself into my work, putting in more hours than anyone else I know. Slowly, my friends started getting married and drifting away, and now here I am at twenty-six, no girlfriend, nothing to show for my life but this really fantastic job.

I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. I don’t regret the late hours working my ass off wile my friends were out getting hammered. I don’t regret the women I’ve passed up, the girlfriends I’ll never have. I don’t regret any of it.

But sometimes, late at night, on my third drink alone at some shitty dive bar trying to get through my work before I can let myself go home and get a few hours sleep before I do it all again, sometimes I wish I had given in and dated those women, hung out with those friends. Sometimes I wish I weren’t alone, even if being alone means I’m better at what I do.

Maybe that’s why I keep thinking back to my friendship with Remi. Those are some of the best memories I have. We were so close back then, tighter than I’ve ever been with anyone since. I was popular in high school, but I never felt like anyone gave a shit about me the way that Remi did. Even later on, up in college when I met some really amazing people, even they couldn’t stack up to my first and best friend.

The friend that I betrayed, like a bastard.

The next day, I work on Spine. I try not to think about Remi while doing it. I try not to imagine her playing with the Tamagotchi and remembering all the good times, just like I did. I keep my head in the game, stay focused, because that’s what’s gotten me so far, not nostalgia. I can’t let myself lose my grip on this.

But it’s so easy to let my mind wander between work, thinking about Remi’s sweet ass under my hands, my body against hers, my cock sliding deep between her legs…

Fucking hell. I want to spank that luscious ass and listen to her moan. I want to hear her beg for her job while I fuck her rough from behind. I want to make her scream like I know I can.

I want to get to know every single inch of her skin.

It goes like this all fucking day. I can manage to squeeze a little work in between daydreaming about fucking Remi on my desk.

If only our past didn’t make everything so fucked up and weird. If only I wasn’t an asshole when I was a kid.

If only I could explain how badly I want her now, and how stupid I know I was.

The day slowly slips past. I’m frustrated, swinging between bouts of hard work and bouts of hard dick. The sun sets and the staff leaves, and I’m alone at my desk, a single lamp illuminating my laptop lid.

I think I’m good and alone when someone knocks at my door. Surprised, I half stand and call out for them to come in.

It’s Remi. I do a double take.

“You’re still here,” I say.

“I’m still here,” she confirms. “Are you busy?”

I sigh and sit back down. “Not at all.”

“I wanted to ask you about the Spine project. They’re still based out of Hawaii, right?”

I nod as she comes closer. “They have this big, enormous compound out there.”

She frowns. “What’s Blair doing out here?”

“Working with us. Normally she’s shut up in her office.”

“She’s in the city just for us?”

“As far as I know.”

“That’s crazy.” She drifts closer and finally leans up against one of the chairs. “You must’ve made a strong impression.”

“Honestly? I don’t know how I did it. I think I was just in the right place at the right time.”

“Probably.” She grins at me. “Not like you could close something even if you tried.”

I bark a little laugh. “You’d be surprised. I pulled in a lot of clients when I was working that side.”

“I don’t believe you for a second.”

“I’d never lie to you.”

Her smile falters a little bit. There’s no witty retort this time, and I sense that I’ve fucked up.

“Anyway.” She shifts her weight away from me. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah. Holy shit.” I take a breath and let it out. “Let’s get some dinner.”

She hesitates. “Me and you?”

“Sure, nobody else here. We can talk more about Spine.”

She purses her lips. I can tell she’s trying to decide what to do.

I stand up. “Come on. My treat. There’s a little Indian place around the corner from here, you’ll like it.”

“I do like Indian,” she admits.

“It’s walking distance, so you can get away whenever you want.”

“Fine,” she says. “But just so we can discuss the project.”

“Right. Of course.” I come around my desk. “Let’s go.”

She follows me out of my office and down the hall. We ride the elevator downstairs, making small talk about Blair and Spine in general. Turns out, she’s never actually used the VR equipment, which I really need to change. I think her whole perspective is going to flip if she actually gets a chance to test it all out.

The Indian place really is right around the corner. It’s a two-minute walk at most. The restaurant isn’t crowded as we grab a booth in the corner. She orders a chicken curry and I get a lamb dish and a beer. I watch her carefully as she leans back in the booth, looking tired.

“Why are you working so late?” I ask. “New boss pushing you too hard?”

“You wish,” she says, giving me a sly little smile. “No, I just work late most nights.”

“Oh, yeah?” I remember the way she said I have nothing back home, and I wonder if that was a little self-reflection.

She gives me a look. “I’m just really busy.”

“I know you are. You always did need to have a million things going on.”

“Even as a little girl?”

“Pretty much. You had like ten different sports teams, ten different books, a million video games, all going on at once. I remember thinking I couldn’t keep up with you.”

“Really?” She seems to brighten up a little bit. “I remember you were the one that always got us in trouble.”

“Sure, that sounds right,” I say, laughing. “I always did have a knack for finding trouble.”

“I was the busy one, and you were the troublemaker.”

“We were a good pair. Spent a lot of time in that stupid creek.”

“Catching frogs.”

“Throwing them at you sometimes.”

“Oh, god.” She smiles huge. “I hated that so much.”

“And we wrestled a lot, which I gotta admit got kind of weird when we were older.”

She laughs, and I notice a little blush on her cheeks. “Yeah, it was confusing, I guess.”

“I don’t think we really understood what we were doing.”

“I think we did though,” she says. “On some level, anyway.”

“True. It’s why we kept doing it.”

“No, we kept doing it because I always kicked your ass, and you couldn’t get over it.”

“Girls mature faster than boys,” I grumble.

“You were just a scrawny little fella back then.”

“I’d like to see you try and take me now,” I say, smirking at her. I’m easily twice her size.

“No, thanks,” she says. “I think that would constitute workplace harassment.”

I laugh a little. “Probably. But I’m sure you’d enjoy it.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. Our food comes not long later and we pick at it, reliving our childhood together.

It’s strange, remembering all of this. They’re good memories, even if they are tainted by what happens later. I finish my beer and have another one, which prompts her to order one as well.

We drink and talk for an hour. “Remember that time we went through your mom’s closet?” I ask her.

“Yeah, what were we looking for?”

“Spare change. They opened that laser tag place near us and you wanted to play the games.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, laughing. “We pulled down all her shoeboxes.”

“It was like an avalanche.”

“You yelled and that’s why we got caught.”

“No, we got caught because there were like fifty shoeboxes scattered on the floor, and your mom happened to come upstairs.”

“I seem to remember a girly, high-pitched scream.”

“If there was one, I promise it was from you.”

“Whatever you say.” She laughs and we sip our drinks.

I watch her run her fingers through her hair and twirl the ends with both fingers, flattening and twisting the ends. She used to do that when we were younger all the time. It’s her nervous habit, like she’s stressed about something.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She stops twisting. “Nothing,” she says.

“You’re doing that thing.” I nod at her hair.

She drops her hands. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Well, I remember.” I push my plate away and run my hands over the top of the table. “What’s wrong?”

“This,” she says softly. “I don’t mean to be dramatic or anything, but come on. What are we doing here?”

“Eating dinner,” I say simply.

“Right, it’s not complicated at all.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“But it is.” She sighs, sips her drink. “We can’t pretend like nothing ever happened.”

“I don’t think we are.” I can feel my frustrating rising. “We were kids, Remi.”

Her eyes flash. “Don’t start making excuses.”

“I didn’t make our dads get in that fight.”

“That’s not why I’m angry with you.”

“Why then?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’ll just piss me off more.”

I sigh and look away for a second. I can feel this starting to spiral out of my control. “I know I made some mistakes.”

“Putting it mildly.”

“How long am I supposed to pay for it?”

“You haven’t even started.” She shifts away from the table and moves toward the aisle.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Thanks for dinner.” She gets up and starts to walk away.

“Shit. Remi, wait!”

She doesn’t look back. I grab a stack of bills from my wallet and put them on the table. It’s way more than enough, but whatever. I hurry after her, pushing out through the front door. I catch up with her on the street before we can make it into our office building.

I grab her arm and she turns around. For a second, I think she’s going to slap me.

I don’t give her the chance. I step closer, pull her tight against my body, and I kiss her.

It takes both of us by surprise. She doesn’t respond right away, but a moment later she kisses me back, practically melting against me.

It’s everything I’ve been picturing. Sweet, sensual, perfect. She tastes incredible, like coming home, like walking next to a creek during a sunny rainstorm. I can feel my desire growing, more intense than I’ve experienced before.

But she pulls away. “No,” she says, stepping back from me.

“Remi.”

She turns and runs away. I stand there and let her go, watching as she disappears back into our building.

“Shit,” I say softly.

I don’t know why I did that. It just happened, almost by instinct. It was stupid and now I’ve screwed it all up. We were just starting to get along again, and although she was a little angry, I think we could get past it.

Now though, I just made shit even more complicated.

I turn away and walk toward the parking lot, not sure how I’m going to get through tomorrow.