~ Andrea

I can’t believe I did that.

I can’t believe I agreed to drink with Clay, got myself drunk, kissed him and then passed out.

Just the thought of it makes me want to bang my forehead on the steering wheel in my hands over and over. Instead, I let go of a deep breath, stick out my lower lip and shake my head quickly, hoping that I can shake off the feeling of having been so stupid.

I can’t. I still feel stupid, even more now than that time when I jumped off a ledge into a naked Clay’s arms.

What is it about Clay that makes me do such foolish, embarrassing things, things that I normally don’t do?

It’s because around Clay, you let your emotions take over and forget to use your mind. In other words, you still have feelings for Clay.

Feelings for Clay? I almost laugh out loud.

What feelings? Betrayal? Anger? Pain? Fear? Because that’s all I feel when I think of him.

Are you sure? Why did you kiss him then?

That takes me back, my hands freezing on the steering wheel. Then while stopping at the intersection, I lift one, sliding my fingertips between my lips.

Lips that I pressed to his.

Imagining it, my heart skips a beat, my cheeks feeling furiously hot even as a shiver goes up my spine.

Did he kiss me back? How did his lips feel? Soft just like they used to be? Smooth and warm and tasting like…?

I dismiss my thoughts, slapping my forehead before putting my hand back on the wheel.

No. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I shouldn’t have drunk that much. How many did I drink anyway? Three cans of beer? Four? No wonder my head is still throbbing, my stomach burning.

I need breakfast, preferably something hearty, and maybe a glass of fruit juice to help cure my hangover. Who knows? Maybe I’ll feel less stupid after a meal.

As the light turns green, I step on the gas. Time to look for a nice café or bistro in Minot.

---

“Yum.”

I take my fingers out of my mouth, wiping then on a table napkin and then wiping my lips, having just taken a bite of the best hot beef sandwich in North Dakota. Well, that’s what the menu of Charlie’s Main Street Café says and while I haven’t tasted any other hot beef sandwiches in the state, I have to say this is really good. I especially love the hot gravy that’s dripping down the sides of the sandwich – messy but so delicious it makes me all fuzzy inside and I can’t help but lick it off my fingers.

Until now, I’ve only thought of desserts as decadent, but this, this is indulgent. In fact, I think as I lift my glass of tomato juice, it’s probably the best sandwich I’ve ever tasted.

“It’s out of this world, isn’t it?”

At the voice, I quickly look up, finding a man standing next to my table – a man in his forties with black hair, a thin beard and soft, gray eyes wearing a red and silver jacket over a black shirt and jeans.

A man I know so well. Or at least, I did. I went out with him several times, after all.

“Paul?”

I set down my glass of juice before I can take a sip and wipe my hands on my lap before standing up, running my hands quickly over my hair, which I suddenly hope isn’t too much of a mess.

“What are you doing here?”

“Visiting my sister,” Paul answers as he gives me a quick hug. “What about you? Are you still on your book tour?”

I narrow my eyes at him after pulling away. “How did you know about my book tour?”

“Well, you have a new book so I’m guessing you have to promote it.”

He always was smart. Then again, he is a neurosurgeon.

“And how did you know about my new book?”

He shrugs. “Saw a copy in a bookstore, I guess.”

Of course. What was I thinking? That he’s been stalking me, spying on me? That he’s still pining for me?

Shame on you, Andrea.

“Plus I saw it on your Facebook page.”

“Ah.”

I’ve forgotten he’s my friend on Facebook, probably since he doesn’t comment on my posts and he’s only sent me a message once to greet me happy birthday. After that, I haven’t heard from him. I have been hearing, or more precisely, reading, about him, though. I’ve heard about how he transferred from Los Angeles to Boston and then to Durham, where he’s now teaching at Duke University. I’ve read about his awards and published papers, too and even about his father and his sister, who seem to be doing well. Come to think of it, his sister does live here in North Dakota.

Wow. Maybe I’m the stalker.

Then again, he saw my post about my new book so maybe he’s been following my posts as well?

“Actually, I’m on vacation,” I tell Paul, remembering his question. “My book tour’s already over.”

“Oh.” He glances at my table. “You should eat that before it gets cold.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I probably should.”

“Care if I join you? The place is filling up fast. It’s quite popular, you know.”

I look around, noticing that most of the other tables are already occupied. “It seems so.”

“If you’re waiting for someone, though…”

“No,” I tell him quickly, shaking my head as I sit down and gesture to the chair across me. “Please.”

Paul sits down and orders his own sandwich while I take a sip of my juice.

“So, why Minot?” he asks after the waiter has left. “Don’t tell me you’re here just for the sandwich?”

“No, though it’s really good.”

I take another bite, a smaller one this time and more carefully since I have company.

“Please don’t hold back on my account,” he says, noticing.

He’s always had an eye for detail but then, maybe that’s another requirement for a neurosurgeon.

“So, why Minot? Where are you staying?”

I wipe my mouth. “I’m headed to Seattle, actually, so I’m just stopping by.”

“A road trip? Are you driving? Because I seem to remember that you didn’t like to drive very much.”

“I’m with a friend, a friend’s family.”

Why did I add that last bit? Because I didn’t want him to think I’m staying with Clay?

“Oh.”

Just then, his order arrives.

“Thanks,” Paul tells the waiter, who leaves after delivering his sandwich. “Now, that’s a sandwich.”

I take another bite from mine. “So, how’s your sister?”

“Good. She has another baby on the way.”

“Another?” I raise an eyebrow.

He takes a bite from his sandwich. “This one’s the fourth. Hopefully, it’s a girl this time.”

“Wow.” I grab my glass.

“What about you?”

“Nope, no baby on the way,” I answer quickly, stirring my juice before taking a sip.

Paul chuckles. “I meant how have you been?”

I set down my glass, trying not to laugh myself for fear that the tomato juice might come flying out of my mouth. Of course, that was what he was asking.

“Oh, I’m okay,” I give him the vague answer.

Paul smiles. “Well, you just finished your book tour, after all. I’d say you’re more than okay.”

I say nothing, eating.

“You look more than okay.”

I pause. Is that a compliment? If so, why?

Because you’re friends, remember?

Are we really? On Facebook maybe but, in real life, we’re more than that. Exes? But then, he never became my boyfriend. He wanted to be and I almost let him but I couldn’t.

Because you’re still in love with Clay.

Because I was still too scared to trust another man because of what Clay did to me. That’s why. After that, we decided to go back to being friends but then, we stopped seeing each other and then he moved away. Until I got his friend request on Facebook, I thought he had forgotten all about me just as I had begun to forget all about him.

No, we’re definitely not just friends. What are we then?

He wipes his mouth. “This feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

Wait a second. I’m with Paul and we’re eating at a great restaurant. Does this mean we’re on a date?

“I…”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he cuts me off as he reaches for his glass of Coke. “No need to bring up the past, worry about it or regret it. That’s just a waste of time.”

“True.” And yet, the past keeps haunting me, especially lately.

“Let’s talk about the present. Are you seeing someone?”

What?

“No,” I answer curtly.

That’s true. Clay is my ex and right now, I’m helping him make his soon to be adopted daughter better. That’s all.

“Still haven’t found the right guy, huh?”

“Enough about me,” I say after eating a spoonful of mashed potato. “How’s Duke?”

“Don’t know any guy by that name.”

“Very funny.”

Paul grins. “It’s good, actually. I quite like teaching.”

“Don’t tell me you’re retiring from being a surgeon already.”

“Nah. I still love performing surgeries better.”

“Good. Because the world would be a worse place if it lost a talented neurosurgeon.”

Did I just pay him a compliment?

He says nothing, just continuing to eat his sandwich.

“So, how long are you staying in Minot?” I ask, changing the topic.

“I’m leaving tonight. I just thought I’d eat another one of these.” He takes another bite.

I chuckle. “You really like it, don’t you?”

He just gives me a thumbs-up sign.

I smile before taking another bite from my own sandwich. Yum. I still have half left and yet, my head and stomach already feel better. Even so, I can keep going, each bite just as amazing as the last. I wonder if I should bring one home to Clay.

Wait. What? Why should I?

“Andrea.” Paul dabs his lips with a fresh napkin. “Is it okay if I ask for your number? I’ll give you mine, too. That way, we can keep in touch.”

Why?

Why not? “Yeah, sure.”

I wipe my hands and then take out my phone from my purse, pulling up my number on the screen and then handing the phone to him.

It’s no big deal. It’s just a number and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be in touch.

I’ve always felt a bit guilty about rejecting him, which is why I didn’t try to keep in touch even though I missed being friends with him. I thought I was giving him space, letting him heal and move on. Well, it seems like he’s already done that because he’s ready to be friends again.

Or has he?

After all, I’ve agreed to be friends with Clay but I can’t say I’ve moved on.

You can say that again.

Why did I become friends with him then? Was I hoping for a new start?

No. Definitely not. I became friends with him because that makes things easier, because it’s harder to be hostile towards someone who you’re with almost all the time. That’s all. It doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him or that I’ve moved on.

I look at Paul. Why does he want to be friends again?

“Thanks.” He gives me back my phone, his number already saved on it. “It’s really great seeing you again. And here of all places. Who would have thought?”

I shrug, finishing my sandwich. It does seem like fate is at play. After all, what are the chances we’d be in the same city during this time and we’d be at the same restaurant at this very hour?

Then again, fate seems to have been toying with me lately. First, by bringing Clay back into my life and now, Paul.

No. Fate didn’t bring Clay into my life. He just came back because of Rose. If not for her, we probably would never have met again and my life would have gone on as usual, less chaotic and no less interesting.

Rose. She seemed confused and a little upset when I was leaving earlier, even with my shirt on the right way. I wonder what she and Clay are doing now.