I jerk upright, my eyes still heavy with sleep as I blink around the dim room. I try to shake off the dream—or rather the memory—that I haven’t thought of in years, but then a pair of gray blue eyes flash through my mind, and my stomach completely bottoms out.
Ant…
And just that one thought has my heart thudding violently against my ribs.
I fling my legs over the side of my bed and quickly cross my bedroom into the attached master bath, despite wanting to head straight out into the living room to see if Anthony is still here. Splashing water on my face, I try my best to push past the uneasy feeling that has formed in the pit of my stomach.
Funny, I feel all sorts of ways—both good and bad—and yet I can’t remember a time before now that I’ve looked at my reflection in the mirror and seen even a semblance of the hope that currently shines from behind my golden eyes.
A stupid smile is etched on my lips as I quickly brush my teeth. The longer I wait to go out there, the more anxious I become and yet I still move no faster. I think a part of me is afraid I’m going to walk out there and either he will be gone, or that I’m going to discover that what I felt last night was just a combination of nostalgia and alcohol and nothing more. Or maybe I’m more afraid that it was real. Because wouldn’t that be worse than any other scenario? I mean, it’s not like Ant and I could ever be a thing. And do I even want us to be?
God, I’m getting so ahead of myself I feel like I’m what-ifing something that isn’t even a possibility.
Letting out a long sigh, I flip off my bathroom light, throw on a bra before tugging my tank top back down, and quickly step out into the short hallway that opens up into the living room/dining room combo.
My eyes go to the gray suede couch first, the throw blanket I gave Ant last night folded up neatly and left where his head was laying just hours prior. I let the disappointment seep through me for only a moment before straightening my shoulders and making my way into the galley-style kitchen that sits on the opposite side of the room.
I haven’t even fully rounded the corner when I hear it. The deep hum from the other side of the wall followed by the opening of the refrigerator. My heart picks up double time when I finally reach the doorway to the kitchen where Ant is currently standing, whisking eggs in a large white mixing bowl.
“There she is.” An instant smile pulls at his mouth when he catches sight of me, and damn it if the way he looks at me doesn’t make me feel something I sure as hell know I’m not allowed to feel.
“Hey,” I push out casually, turning toward the coffee machine which already has a full pot brewed. “What are you making?” I ask, pulling down a coffee mug from the cabinet in front of me, noticing Ant already has one of his own sitting next to the stove.
“Scrambled eggs.” He holds out the bowl to show me its contents. “You hungry?”
“I am actually.” I smile, loving that even after five years we can fall back into the easy friendship we’ve always had. Well, with the exception of this funny thing my stomach keeps doing every time I look at him.
“Good.” He grins, setting the bowl next to the stove where a pan is already warming on the burner. “So what’s the plan for the day?”
“Well, I need to go pick Jackson up from my grandparents at some point. I promised him Tess and I would take him to the park today, but that’s when I thought she was going to chicken out and would still be here.”
“Well then, looks like it’s you and me. I may not be as pretty as Tess, but I can guarantee I’m a million times more fun.” He winks.
“Oh I don’t know about that. Aunt Tess is Jackson’s favorite,” I warn.
Normally I wouldn’t even consider bringing a guy around Jackson, but with Anthony it feels just as natural as having Tess or Courtney around. I have to remind myself he’s just an old friend and Jackson has been around plenty of my friends. Why should this be any different?
The thought settles me, and we spend the remainder of the morning eating eggs and drinking coffee on the balcony over easy conversation.
We laugh, retelling stories of our past, and only when Courtney comes into the conversation do I feel the shift again; the same shift I felt last night when the topic of their relationship came up. I ignore the pang in my gut that tells me there’s so much more there that he’s not telling me about, and I remind myself that there’s a lot of things I don’t know about him; even more than he probably doesn’t know about me. And honestly, I kind of like that about our friendship. He doesn’t know how deep the scars of my past run, and therefore he doesn’t judge me by them.
After cleaning up breakfast, Ant takes a quick shower in the guest bathroom and puts the same clothes back on that he was wearing last night; though, they look just as good on him the second time around.
I still can’t wrap my head around just how good looking he is now, which is really saying something. Teenager Ant was something to look at, but grown up Ant is something else entirely. Even though he’s still young, there’s something so mature about him—both physically and emotionally—something that makes him seem so much older than just twenty-three.
It’s just after eleven when we climb into my car and make the ten-minute drive to my grandparents’ house. The ride over is pretty quiet and while he doesn’t say so, I get the feeling he’s nervous about meeting my son; though, I’m not entirely sure why he would be.
We’re friends, aren’t we? And if so, then why would it feel anything other than natural to meet Jackson? Friends meet their friends’ children all the time. But even as I’m telling myself this, I can’t deny that I also feel nervous.
Because even though nothing has happened, I also can’t ignore the invisible electric current that seems to have been coursing between the two of us since the moment he smiled at me through the windshield of my car outside of Sebastian’s apartment.
“Does he ever ask about his dad?” Ant’s question comes out of nowhere just as we’re pulling into the driveway of my grandparents’ small one-story home.
I think on that for a long moment, not really sure how to answer that question.
“Sometimes,” I admit, letting out a slow sigh as I kill the engine but make no attempt to exit the car.
“And what do you say?” He shifts in his seat to face me.
“That his father lives across the country and couldn’t come to California with us.”
“And that satisfies him?” he questions, arching a brow.
“Well, he’s five; it doesn’t take much convincing. He’s got a pretty short attention span, so he typically moves on pretty quickly.” I shrug.
“And what about when he gets older?” he presses. “Are you going to tell him the kind of guy his father was?”
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” I admit. “Why are you asking me this?”
“I’m just curious.” He shakes off whatever seems to have settled over him. “Come on, I’m dying to meet this little dude.” He smiles, making a move to exit the car.
I grab his forearm, halting his movements.
“Actually, would you mind waiting in the car?” I ask, feeling weirdly awkward asking such a question. “My grandma is really weird about who I bring around Jackson, and even though you’re just an old friend, I really don’t feel like getting the fifth degree right now. I will say friend and all she will hear is guy I’m screwing.”
Ant chuckles next to me, clearly finding humor in my statement.
“You think I’m kidding.” I nudge him with my elbow.
“I think it’s good that she’s protective of him,” he says, falling serious. “Doesn’t hurt to have people looking out for you.”
“True. I just wish she did it in a less intrusive way.” I shake my head. “Just stay put, okay? I’ll be back in five minutes,” I promise.
“I’m timing you.” He checks his wrist even though he doesn’t have a watch on.
I smile, quickly climbing out of the car, my stomach full of what can only be described as butterflies; feeling like at any moment I’m going to take flight.
God, I just need to get over whatever the hell is wrong with me right now. I mean, Ant always had a way of making me feel a little giddy. I acknowledged the crush I had on him long ago—at least to myself—and I found a way to not let it affect our friendship. So why is it I can’t seem to shove those feelings back into the same file as before—the one that says Property of your Best Friend, do not open.
I try to push down the inner turmoil brewing deep in my gut and step inside the house, finding my grandpa kicked back in his normal recliner, a newspaper just inches from his face. I smile at the sight. How my mother came from these people I will never know. They are sweet and caring, willing to do anything for anyone. And my mom… Well, let’s just say she couldn’t be more opposite.
“Hi, Grandpa.”
My voice pulls his concentration and he looks up from his paper, meeting my gaze over the top of his glasses.
“Hi, darlin’,” he greets me with his usual endearment.
“Where’s Grandma?” I ask, finding the house quieter than it normally is when my child is here.
“She’s out back. That boy of yours is helping her in the garden.”
“Putting him to work, is she?” I smile.
“More like he’s putting her to work. He couldn’t wait to go outside and dig.” He chuckles, setting the newspaper in his lap.
“So he should be nice and dirty for me then,” I joke, crossing through the living room toward the back sliding glass door.
“That’s what grandparents do,” I hear him say just moments before I’m exiting into the backyard.
My eyes instantly land on Jackson, his dark hair matted to the side of his face from sweat as he uses a green plastic shovel to dig next to my grandma. He looks up when he hears the back door close and instantly jumps to his feet.
“Mama!” He smiles wide before taking off toward me.
“Hi, buddy.” I lean down and give him a big hug despite his dirt-covered clothes. “You having fun with Nana?”
“She let me pull weeds,” he says excitedly.
“She did?” I laugh, knowing that in ten years she probably won’t be able to pay him to pull weeds, and yet at this age it’s something he thinks is so cool.
“He’s the best helper.” My grandma appears next to him, almost as dirt covered as my son, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun away from her face.
“Were you good for Nana and Papaw?” I ask Jackson, though it’s meant for my grandma and as such, she’s the one who answers.
“As always.” She runs a hand through his messy hair. “Jack, baby, why don’t you go clean up your tools,” she says to Jackson, who nods and takes off toward the garden. “Did you and Tess do anything fun last night?” she asks the moment he’s out of earshot.
“Actually, Tess stayed with Sebastian last night,” I say.
“So they worked things out?” she asks, knowing pretty much the whole story when it comes to Tess and Sebastian having heard me talk about it several times. My grandma is an amazing sounding board.
“It appears so; though, I’ve yet to actually speak to her since I dropped her off at his apartment late yesterday afternoon.”
“Did you end up doing anything then?” she asks; though, I kind of wish she hadn’t. Not that I have anything to hide, but her asking reminds me of the man currently sitting in my car just on the other side of the house.
“I actually hung out with Ant last night.” I bite the bullet and go ahead and throw it out there. Ant is my friend, and if he’s planning to stay in California it’s likely we will be hanging out in the future. No reason to hide it from a woman who knows pretty much every single detail of my life.
“Ant?” my grandma questions, thinking on the name for a moment and trying to pinpoint where she’s heard it before.
“He’s a friend of mine from high school. He actually dated Courtney for a while,” I quickly add, hoping that will squash anything she has to say on the dating front. “He’s actually staying with Sebastian, and we ran into each other when I took Tess over there.”
“And what did the two of you do?” She raises a brow, questioning.
“We went out for dinner and drinks. It was nice. We we’re pretty good friends in high school, but I hadn’t seen him since moving here.”
“Well that’s nice,” she says when Jackson bounces back up next to her, even though I get the feeling she wants to say more.
“You ready, buddy?” I ask, looking down at Jackson who nods excitedly.
“Thanks again for keeping him,” I say to my grandma, giving her a quick hug before extending my hand to my son who happily takes it.
“Anytime.” She smiles, dropping a kiss on top of Jackson’s sweaty head. “You be good for Mommy, and the next time you come over Grandpa and I will take you to feed the ducks,” she promises.
There’s a pond with a walking trail less than a block from my grandparents’ property and is probably Jackson’s favorite place to go when he visits.
“Okay!” he gets out excitedly, looking up at me as if to ask if he can come back tomorrow.
“Soon,” I promise, throwing my grandma another smile before leading Jackson around the side of the house to the driveway where my car is parked.
As if just remembering Ant, I pause just feet from the front of my car and bend down so that I’m at my son’s level.
“Hey, buddy. Mommy brought a friend with her,” I start.
“Is it Aunt Tessy? Are we going to the park?” I swear his memory is spot on. He forgets nothing I promise him.
“No, Aunt Tess wasn’t able to come to the park today, so I brought another friend to go with us. His name is Ant.”
“Ant?” He looks at me funny.
“Like the little ants on the ground,” I say, knowing that’s what he’s thinking.
“That’s a weird name.” He crinkles his nose, pulling a soft laugh from my throat.
“Yes, I suppose it is. But it’s short for Anthony, which really isn’t very weird.” I tip his chin. “Would you like to meet him?”
“Sure.” Jackson shrugs like he couldn’t be any less affected by the fact that he’s meeting someone new.