It definitely wouldn’t have been my preferred mode of transportation. Or even my second or third choices. But walking in the rain was still a small price to pay if it meant she would give us five minutes.
It even gave us more of a chance since the three-minute drive was at least a ten-minute walk.
And since we were all three soaked to the bone within seconds of leaving the protective covering of the awning, there was nothing left to do but smile and be thankful that my plan worked in the end.
Not exactly the way I’d hoped, but close enough. All that was left was to make it through a cup of coffee and a sincere apology without making an ass out of myself.
Considering my track record with Jasmine, I expected it to be more difficult than it sounded. I probably should have come up with some talking points or some notes—a fucking script would have been a good idea since I did that for a living—but nope. I’d foolishly opted for flying blind without a parachute.
Which meant I had to get my shit together.
Chapter Three
Micah Walsh
The three of us were soaked to the bone by the time we stepped inside the bright, chilly, nearly deserted diner.
Behind the counter, the waitress arched a brow as she looked us up and down, then peered out the large front windows into the darkness. “I didn’t even see y’all pull up outside,” she said. “You didn’t walk here from somewhere, did you?”
“It’s complicated,” I said, my shoes squishing on the linoleum tile as we walked over to a corner booth. “Can we get three cups of coffee, please? And... a whole bunch of napkins.”
A few minutes later, she stood beside our table with steaming hot coffee, a stack of napkins, and a handful of clean, white dish towels.
“Thank you so much.” Jasmine smiled up at her. It was the first time I’d seen her smile all night, and I’d almost forgotten how beautiful she looked when her face lit up.
She was beautiful all the time, of course. But that smile...
Jesus, it got me every time.
But that pretty, bright smile faded as soon as the waitress walked away. “Okay,” Jasmine sighed, dabbing at her face with one of the towels. “We’re here now. What is so important that we had to walk through a hurricane?”
Axel opened his mouth. He snapped it closed again without saying a word when he caught me glaring at him. Reminding her that she insisted on walking in this weather, not us, was definitely not the way to start the conversation.
At least Axel and I knew for sure that she hadn’t lost any of that fire that drew our attention in the first place. But I preferred it when the fire wasn’t directed at either of us.
Yeah, us. We weren’t a couple or anything. But we were practically together in every other sense of the word: best buddies and business partners. And more recently, we’d started living together in the tiniest apartment in order to save and sink all our spare cash into the business. We must have been fucking crazy.
Eventually, I spoke up for us first. “I think we want to start by apologizing. Isn’t that right, Axel?”
“Yes,” he answered without any hesitation. “We definitely want to do that. We were assholes, and we treated you badly back in school. I regret the way we acted, and I wish we could take it back, but that isn’t possible. I just hope you’ll believe that we are sorry—I really am sorry, Jasmine—and there is no excuse to justify the way we behaved as teenagers.”
Once he’d started, it all flowed out, which was good, since he’d gotten us here, and we might not have long before she walked back out into the rain.
He’d wanted a chance to be completely honest without holding anything back.
Right then, I’d make do with warm and dry.
What we’d done was wrong. Bullying was wrong. Period. No justification. We didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but I still held out a tiny bit of hope that she might give it to us anyway.
Jasmine wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee and slowly lifted it to her lips to take a sip. When her eyes finally met mine again, I saw she was conflicted. She’d always worn her heart on her sleeve—one of the reasons why it had been so easy to pick on her as a kid—but now it was gut-wrenching to watch her try to fight her own feelings.
“I hated the two of you,” she said quietly. “And I was pretty sure you both hated me, too. You were so mean. So mean for so long, and you made my life hell for a while.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said. I couldn’t let Axel speak for the both of us. “There isn’t any excuse for the way we acted and the things we did. And we don’t expect to walk away from this conversation with your friendship, even if that would be... amazing.”