And maybe Harry is more celestial than I give him credit for, because as I’m stirring in the milk, the barn door creaks open.
“Hey.”
His tone is off. Awkward. There’s none of the ease we’ve always shared. Even when we broke up at eighteen, we still laughed and joked together, but now as Harry strolls across the open plan barn, his jaw is tight and his shoulders are tense.
He’s still wearing the same black sweater he wore last night. The same gray jeans. And they were fine in the cool night air, but he must be hot and sticky in the scorching sunshine.
I clear my throat and hold out a wobbly coffee. “Hey.”
An eternity stretches between us. When my best friend takes the mug off me, I could drop to my knees and weep.
Harry opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. “I’m so sorry about last night,” I blurt.
He cocks his dark head, watching me closely. “Sorry that it happened? Or sorry that I saw it?”
Well. Yeah. This won’t sound good, but I’ve already messed up enough with this man. The least I owe him is the truth, so I grip the edge of the counter behind me and lay it all out.
“Sorry you saw it, I guess. Or that you found out about it like that. That was the first time anything happened, I swear, but we’ve been… since I got here, we’ve been…”
Harry sips his coffee and groans. “Fuck, that’s good. Yeah, no kidding, Josie. A blind man could see the way you two have been.”
Um. What?
I blink at him. My eyes are gritty from not sleeping. “You knew?”
“I suspected.” Harry looks sour, scuffing a shoe over the rug. “Hoped I was wrong, obviously, but let’s just say that last night was not a plot twist.”
It’s worse, somehow, knowing that with how it ended. The way Everett tossed me away like yesterday’s trash. And Harry must notice the despair crowding my features, because he softens slightly, then nods at the doorway.
“Come on, Josie. Let’s take a walk.”
* * *
The water trickles over the rocky creek bed, and our empty mugs lay abandoned beside us on the grass. Harry’s already teased me for stealing his clothes while I’m in disgrace, so that’s good. A positive sign.
We’llbe fine—even if I can never stomach seeing his uncle again.
“Have you talked to him yet?”
Harry shakes his head, scowling at the water. He tosses a pebble and it lands with a plunk. “I stayed out walking all night. Wanted to clear my head.”
“And did you?”
Toned shoulders lift as he shrugs. Harry is tall like his uncle, with the same strong frame, but he hasn’t had a chance yet to fill out over time. He’s lean rather than burly. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.
Most days, anyway.
“I hate that he did that to me.” Another pebble lands with a sploosh. “He could’ve broken my heart.”
I grunt. “He didn’t, though.”
We may never have acknowledged it out loud, but Harry and I both know the deal. Even though we dated for years, we were never really meant for each other. We were in a holding pattern, waiting for our real lives to begin.
My best friend is quiet for a long, long time. And though I’m pretty sure I know what he needs to tell me, I also know I can’t rush it. Can’t push him along.
And when he finally says it, I hide a smile.
“I like men, Josie.”