No Regrets (17 page)

“Obviously.”

“It’s similar, I just change the fuck you, to an ‘I love you’.”

The crinkles around his eyes appear. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“I love you, Henry Fletcher.”

“I know.”

Chapter Seventeen

I use my heel to lower the kickstand on
my bike. It’s dark, but the dim lighting from inside the bar makes it easy to see. I search through the window for my roommates. Tricia’s red hair flames like a beacon. They left me at home in front of the couch, notebook propped on my knees. I’ve taken Henry’s words to heart. I’m trying at least. He sparked a fever of writing and the words are coming out, finally, but I haven’t ventured further than his apartment.

A crappy bar? I can do this.

I can totally do this.

My fingers falter on the door
, but a couple people push in behind me, so I plunge into the light. Several people at the bar look up when I walk in and unless I’m completely paranoid, at least three recognize me. Ugh. I bolt to the table and Tricia’s eyebrow rises in surprise.

“Move over,” I say to Josh, basically sitting on top of him.

“Look who came out of her cave,” he says, throwing an arm around my shoulder. I glance nervously across the booth to see what sort of mood my best friend is in, but I stop short when I see an adorably handsome guy sitting next to her. He has his own half empty fishbowl margarita in front of him.

“Hi,” I say. “I’m Zadie.”

“This is Ryan, my boyfriend,” Tricia says. There’s an unmistakable glimmer of happiness in her eyes. You know, under the anger and daggers she’s throwing my way.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, adjusting his black
-framed glasses. So. Adorable.

“You too.”

I’m trying to keep my expression normal but internally I’m freaking out. In an effort to get this apology moving, I reach out and pinch Josh in the leg. He reacts by stomping on my foot. “Mother fuuudge,” he groans.  “What the hell, Zadie?”

“Want to get me a drink?”

He looks like he wants to pour his drink over my head but he finally gets that I want to talk to Tricia alone. “Come on, Ryan, let’s go get a refill and a new glass for Princess Zadie. She looks like she could use a drink.”

We watch the boys walk off. “Wow, he’s super cute,”
I say once they’re out of earshot. “So things are going well between you two?”

“Very well,” she says stiffly.

“Good, because he seems great and I’m happy for you. For real. I’m sorry I messed things up with us. I never wanted to do that. I knew you were seeing someone but you were really quiet about it so I didn’t push.” She snorts and shakes her head. “Fine and I was terribly distracted by my own life. I’m a jerk.”

“A huge jerk.”

“The biggest,” I agree. “I want you to know I heard what you said the other night. I’ve got to get past all this stuff. It’s stupid and it’s not the end of the world. It’s these stupid anxiety attacks, though. Ever since Elton, things have gotten out of control. I feel completely out of control.”

“Then take control back.”

“That’s what Henry says, too. He says I need to own it.”

“He’s right. Remember when Henry ditched you for the prom and you asked Carter to go?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“Well, you took control of that situation. Things changed for you after that.”

“But was it really better for me? People thought I was slutty and I lost years I could have spent with Henry. I don’t think that was the best solution.”

“Really? Because I do. You pushed yourself and it gave you the courage to try Elton. To have a boyfriend and give things with you and Henry some time. Do you think you’d still be with him if you’d gone to prom
with him all those years ago?” I wanted to think we could have made it, but it was doubtful. “I just want my old friend back. The one who wasn’t self-centered and scared all the time.”

I look over at the bar. Josh and
Ryan are sitting next to one another talking but several of the guys and at least a couple girls keep glancing my way. “People are talking about me right now.”

“Who cares? It’s not like you murdered someone. Don’t let them win. And don’t let your insecurities destroy another relationship. Like you and Tyler.”

The door opens and a couple of guys walk in. I see Charlie’s head above everyone else’s and I search for Henry. I didn’t know he was coming but I’m not surprised. He knew I needed to fix things with Tricia and that it was possible it would go badly. I spot him behind the others and he flashes me a smile and points to the bar.

“
I’m not going to screw this up again. I love him,” I say. “Oh and just so you know, that talk was way better than the one Josh gave me. He started rambling on about 90210.”

She giggles and playfully rolls her eyes. “Brenda and Kelly, right? It’s his favorite topic.”

“He’ll never get over it.”

“Never.”

We’re interrupted by a bartender holding a fishbowl with two straws. He’s rocking a thick beard and dreadlocks threaten to spill out of his hat. “Which one of you is Zadie?”

This guy must not have Internet.

Tricia points to me. He places the drink on the table. I search the bar where the boys are all busy talking about something on the television over their heads. “Did Josh send this?” I ask.

“Some guys over there.” He jerks his thumb to a table across the bar. Three knuckleheads wave and raise their eyebrows suggestively. What the hell?

“Yeah, no thanks,” I say, feeling my face turn red.

“You sure? It’s paid for.” I shake my head and he turns away.

“Wait,” Tricia says. He stops,
grimacing when the overflowing drink sloshes out of the glass. “I think you should go give it to that guy over there. The one with the stocking cap on even though it’s ten million degrees outside.” She points to Henry. “He deserves a free drink.”

I nod. “He really does.”

The beardy bartender smiles. “You got it.”

Henry accepts the drink and raises it in my direction in a mock toast. I blow him a kiss in return. “See?” Tricia says. “This is so much better than running away.”

“Maybe, but they look a little pissed.” I gesture to the guys who bought the drink.

“That’s their fault,” she says. “Come on, let’s go see what happened to our real drinks.”

We slide out of the booth and cross the crowded bar floor. Henry smiles when he sees me. I lean into him and feel his arm snakes around my waist. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Well, you can thank those douches over there. They bought it.”

“For Zadie,” Tricia adds, wrapping her arm around Ryan She takes a sip from his drink.

“Guess they were hoping for another show,” I speculate.

Henry’s eyes flash and I feel his body tense. “No fighting. I’m good.”

He looks down at me. “You sure?”

“Very sure,” I say and give him a kiss. His lips taste like salt and lime. I link my hands behind his neck pull him to me. Whispering, “You know the old Zadie would have suggested we make out right here to make them jealous.”

He tilts his head in interest. “That’s a great idea.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not. Okay, fine it
is
a great idea but we’re not playing that game anymore.”

“Well, you won’t let me kick their asses and w
e can’t have public revenge sex so I’m not sure this new game is any fun.” He sighs and looks at Tricia. “I guess you won’t make out with Tricia either then.”

I pinch his arm and twist. “No. Pervert.”

“Just checking.”

Henry gives me a sip of his drink, but I take it easy, wanting for this to work. Confident and controlled. Fun but safe. It’s not rocket science
, but for some reason it doesn’t come easily to me.

*

“Will you come to work with me tomorrow? It’s the last day,” he asks. We stayed at the bar until closing and the streets are dark and quiet. Everyone else passes us on the sidewalk while he unlocks my bicycle. Henry pushes it toward home with one hand while holding mine with the other.

“Closing day?”

“Yep.”

“Only if you buy me doughnuts
and soda and snacks on the way.”

“Deal.”

We walk home slowly, laughing at our friends being stupid down the street. The night is warm and not too muggy for once, a hint of fall coming in the future. Tricia jumps on Ryan’s back, while Charlie and Josh talk quietly on the sidewalk. I glance at Henry, taking note of the crinkles near his eyes, at his forearm muscles on the handlebars. He’s perfect. The night’s perfect and the pieces of the summer split like a jigsaw puzzle, fragments of ideas that begin to click together, tiny parts of a story building in my mind.

Chapter Eighteen

The final day is a bit more wistful than I imagined. Saying goodbye to the families and kids. Henry and I lock the gates and tidy
up for the final time. It’s hard to think that summer is almost over since it feels like any other day, including the fact Tate ditched us an hour earlier to pick Lisa up at the airport, leaving the cleanup to us.

Yeah, that’s still going on.
Even with the baby that may not be his baby.

“I
knew he wouldn’t be able to stop seeing her.” I hang the skimmer net against the metal hooks on the wall.

“
He loves her. In his own crazy, bad-decision kind of way.” He shakes his head. “Speaking of bad decisions, did Tricia hook you up with that prosecutor?”

“Yeah,
this morning. I think I have a case against Eric for libel. I’m going to meet with him tomorrow at his office. He seems to think we may have a couple of options. Lisa’s lawyer called me too. I have a feeling she and Eric aren’t going to get back together.”

“Good.”
Even in the shadows I can see he’s fighting some residual anger over this whole thing.

Near the diving board Henry links his fingers with mine. We walk around the edge of the pool, picking up the last bits of trash. “So, we have the n
ext two weeks off work before fall semester starts.”

“We do.”

“I thought maybe we could take a trip. Like get in the car and drive.”

“
A road trip? Like Kerouac?”

“Or Thompson.”

“Or Kesey.”

He nods and I smile. T
he sadness of leaving the summer behind disappears with the excitement that we’ve got so much more to do together. A road trip sounds exciting. Maybe even a little romantic. “Let’s do it,” I say. “We can go to Graceland.”

“Or the desert.”

“Maybe the mountains. Real ones.”

We store all the ropes and cleaning materials, the chemicals and stacked the chairs. We talk about the trip and what we need to do to leave in two days. Not much, Henry thinks. He wants it to be spontaneous.

I love him so much.

It’s dark by the time we finish. The pool glows blue from the underwater lights. It’s a little weird, seeing the place so sterile. No kids or inner tubes in the pool. No soda cans or popsicle sticks to pick up. Now it’s just me and Henry sitting on top of a picnic table under the shelter in the warm evening heat. He’s trying his hardest to convince me to have sex with him. Here. Now.

“Come on,” he says, turning the maximum power of his eyes on me.

“We agreed; no more risky behavior.”

“I don’t think I agreed to that. And I don’t think this really counts as risky.”

Mentally I’m wavering. The door’s locked. It’s dark and Eric’s in big trouble. He’s right. It’s not that risky.

“You could use it in your book,” he suggests
sincerely.

“How could I use it in my book?”

“Eh, make it an erotic book or something where the two main characters have sex all the time. Once they can do it after closing at the pool. Think of it as research.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you.”

I punch
him playfully. He catches my wrist and that feeling of heat rises between us. The rawness that falls to the pit of my stomach. His hair hangs in his eyes and I use my free hand to push it back. Electricity sparks between us and I restrain myself as Henry moves from his seat so he’s kneeling on the bench. I reach for his neck and chin. I want to kiss him, desperately, and do.

Kissing Henry may be my favorite thing to do, especially after going days without it—without him. He’s salty from the sun, tasting and smelling like summer. I let him lift my shirt and toss it on the patio. I
watch impatiently as he yanks his from behind his neck and over his head. My hands are on his chest before he’s half way done.

He leans
over me and says, “Is this against the rules?”

“Probably,” I laugh. “I don’t care.” I mean it. I really don’t care.

“Good, because I’ve wanted to do this for ages, but if we get busted, there’s no third chance.”

I declare
my position by removing my suit bottom and sliding his over his hips. He smiles adorably and I lock my ankles at his lower back, bringing us closer. Until we fit nestled against one another. I expect his motions to be frantic, but he’s calm and steady. Moving with ease and restraint. He pushes into me slow and deliberate. Kissing me leisurely. Perfect.

Sweat builds between us, making us sticky and
slick. I grip the edge of the table, bracing myself for each unhurried thrust. “You’re killing me, babe,” I breathe as he winds me tighter and tighter.

My words are enough to make him increase his pace
, finally increasing the intensity, giving me what I need. “Love you,” he whispers into my mouth. I fall over the edge, taking this boy with his blue eyes and kind heart with me.