“What about the goodbye?”
I exhaled through my nose, the disappointment I’d felt at that moment rushing back to me. “What about it? He thanked me for a nice weekend and I did the same.”
“That was it?” She frowned. “It doesn’t feel like that should’ve been it.”
“That was it. I thought it felt like we were both leaving something unsaid, but neither of us rectified that situation.”
“Are you going to see him again? Please tell me you got his number, at least. That has to be the most disappointing end to a story I’ve ever heard.”
“I didn’t get his number and he didn’t ask for mine. The thought crossed my mind, but when he didn’t ask, I didn’t offer. I didn’t want to be disappointed when he didn’t call, so I just waved, got in the car, and left.”
“You should’ve gotten his number,” she grumbled, looking even more crestfallen than I was. “Even if he didn’t ask for yours, you could’ve called him. This isn’t the seventeenth century. If you felt like there was something there, which you clearly did, you wouldn’t have had to wait for him to call you. Now you’re always going to wonder what could’ve been, and so am I.”
I laughed her off, not wanting to dwell on the disappointment of how it had ended when I’d gone there for memories and to live a little. Since I’d gotten both of those things out of the weekend, along with a whole bunch of design ideas, it just felt bratty to be too caught up in the ending.
“Whatever there was or might’ve been between us, it clearly wasn’t enough. If it had been or if he was my soulmate, it wouldn’t have ended there.”
“Well, who said anything about it being over?” she asked. “You could see him again if you wanted to? I could ask Trevor to make some calls. He’s got Jeremiah’s number and I’m sure Jeremiah has Tanner’s number. I could get it for you.”
“This isn’t junior high and we aren’t passing love notes around the class,” I said, chuckling as I imagined these millionaires and billionaires doing my bidding. “Please don’t ask him. The weekend was what it was. We had a good time, and I don’t want to ruin it by trying to force it into being more. Besides, it probably wouldn’t work between us anyway. We’re very different people.”
“So are Trevor and I,” she said matter-of-factly. “All the best couples are.”
“You and Trevor are very different people in ways that complement each other. I can’t say the same thing about me and Tanner. Do you know that I’ve never even watched an entire baseball game? It’s the sport he dedicated his life to, and I don’t even know the rules. I could walk past a game being played by the biggest teams around, and I wouldn’t be able to tell by their colors who was playing.”
“So? That shouldn’t be an issue. He’s not playing anymore, and even if he was, you could’ve learned the rules. They’re not exactly rocket science.”
“Sure, but that was just an example. We don’t have much in common other than a love of bad horror movies and making fun of people in them. Oh, and we both have dead dads, but that’s not exactly the stuff matches in heaven are made of.”
“Trevor and I only discovered a lot of the stuff we had in common later on. That’s why there’s this thing called dating. You should try it sometime. It’s useful for getting to know the other person and discovering whether your differences are complementary and whether you have the core, non-negotiable things in common.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” I teased. “This dating thing sounds like fun, but Tanner and I aren’t doing it, so can we drop it now?”
She sighed but went back to the swatches, putting them together to see what worked best for the project I’d told her about earlier. Once we were both focused on that, I thought back to the kiss again. I’d been doing that a lot since it happened.
It really had been the kiss that would be my yardstick from now on, the one to beat. Physically, as well as emotionally and even spiritually, because that was how deeply I’d felt connected to him while it’d been happening.
I also hadn’t stopped wondering what would have happened if we’d let it go further. If we’d woken up together on Sunday morning instead of in separate beds, both feeling uncertain about where the other stood.
As Brit pushed two swatches together that I wouldn’t have expected to work but still somehow did, I shoved my thoughts about the weekend to the back of my mind. It had been fun and I didn’t regret going, but it was time to focus on the present, and in the present, I had to get back to work.