I flash him a grateful smile and he smiles back, and for just a moment, my traitorous heart does a little flip in my chest that startles me.
There’s no denying that Forrest is gorgeous, I’ve known that for a long time just from looking at Max’s old pictures. It’s pretty easy to see how Max fell for that handsome face all those years ago, and much like my fiancé, Forrest has only gotten better-looking with age.
He’d gone from a slightly broody-looking teenager, with shaggy dark hair hiding parts of his face, to a rugged type who looks like he should be on the set of an action movie, or maybe playing a Viking or something.
And when he smiles, it only adds to the overall picture.
I grab my glass of tea and take a large gulp, grateful for the cool wash down my throat, clearing my head a little. Sure, I’ve found other guys attractive before, I’m only human, but the butterflies currently fluttering around in my insides are usually reserved exclusively for the man I’m marrying.
But the weirdness passes and the rest of dinner carries on without incident. In fact, I’m actually surprised by how comfortable it is to talk to Forrest. He and Max kind of seem to pick their old friendship right back up, which makes me happy. I know that above everything, the two of them had been best friends even before they’d become a couple, and Max really hadn’t had a close guy friend since.
And it’s not like I’m a third wheel in the party, either, the two of them keep me included and share some of the stories of their past shenanigans that have me howling with laughter. Max and I share a few of our own silly stories, too, and at one point Forrest is cracking up so hard he nearly falls from his chair.
It’s nowhere near the awkwardness I was anticipating, and in fact, I’m having fun. And it’s good to see this side of Max, that slightly childish sparkle that just comes from boys being boys together.
After dinner, we end up migrating to the living room to talk some more, until I realize I’m yawning and my eyelids are beginning to droop. Forrest notices and glances at his watch. “Oh, shit, you guys, I’m sorry, it’s almost eleven.”
“Wait, really?” I grab his wrist and turn the display towards me, “Whoa, I thought it was maybe like nine or something.”
“Yeah, it’s way past your bedtime, kiddo,” Max teases.
I make a face at him. “Aly’s definitely not what you’d call a night owl,” he tells Forrest.
“Yeah, but at least I’m functional before noon,” I shoot back.
“I’m functional,” he protests.
“No, you aren’t,” Forrest and I reply in unison.
We share a look, then both of us bust up laughing all over again while Max pouts, trying not to join us in laughing. But eventually he caves and laughs with us, and I feel a strange sense of…belonging, almost.
And after we’ve calmed down and Forrest bids us goodnight, heading back to his own place, there’s something sort of empty about the house that I don’t quite understand.
“So, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” Max asks me a little while later when we’re settling into bed.
“Not even a little bit,” I tell him honestly, “Forrest is really great.”
“I kind of wasn’t expecting it to go that well,” he admits, “But it was kind of like we just stepped back into our friendship, and like there was always a place waiting there for you.”
My face melts into a smile and I lean in to brush a kiss over his lips. “I kind of felt the same,” I admit.
“I’m glad he’s back. Maybe the three of us can hang out more often,” he suggests.
“I think I would like that,” I tell him, not wanting to confess just how much I like the idea.