14. Chapter Fourteen

God, I'm not even sure what's happening to me this morning. It's like a rush of something amazing that I can't even define. It's warm and tingly and almost some sort of dizziness. And it's both incredible and terrifying.

It's at least a minute after Coop disappears into the diner before I can even think enough to put Brenna's car in reverse and back out of the parking spot. My heart's still beating so hard it feels like it's going to just burst right out of my chest. I'm pretty sure I've never been so happy to be on the receiving end of a wrong number before. And I'm pretty sure I've never been so happy to be awake before the sun's even up.

The drive back to the motel is short, and when I enter the room as quietly as I can a few minutes later, all the lights are still out. I can see Brenna's outline in the bed, her back to me, but I hesitate as I carefully slip off my shoes and coat.

It's a strange feeling—to go from reeling and winded, my heart racing with a wild anticipation, to... whatever this is now. It's an uncertainty and a sadness, and it's mixed with something else too. Maybe the reminder of how much she's probably hurting because of me.

I step slowly toward her, holding my breath, and I stop at the foot of the bed, still watching her. She's not really asleep; there's an unsteadiness to the rhythm of her chest rising and falling, and I can see it even though she's lying on her side.

It's not my place to presume I can just crawl back into bed. In fact, I'm not sure I even have the right to be here in the room with her now. So instead, I sit down on the edge of the bed and clasp my hands together in my lap.

She'd said we could talk more in the morning. Figure it all out. I guess that means now. Or soon. Or something.

I hear her shift behind me, and her voice is quiet and a little shaky when she speaks a moment later.

"Are you coming back to bed?"

"Uh, yeah, if you don't mind?"

There's a soft laugh, and when I turn around, she's watching me with a kind smile.

"The sun's not up, so I'm going to pretend it's not morning yet," she says, reaching out one hand toward me. When I hesitate, she frowns and lets out a shaky breath. "You're still my best friend, Josh. And I could really use my best friend right now."

God, my heart hurts for her, even as it's still yearning to be back in the car with Coop, wishing I'd had the courage to tell him what I'd been thinking. I nod and then crawl up to my spot, slide under the covers, and welcome her as she curls up in my arms, resting her head on my chest.

She's asleep within a few minutes, but I can't seem to settle enough to drift off. So I just close my eyes and try not to imagine later today, when I might get to see Coop again. But it's not easy, and I just can't seem to get the picture of him out of my mind.

His cheeks flushed from the cold as he'd gotten in the car.

His hair still hidden under that damn sexy baseball cap, a mess of dark curls that is so easy to imagine running my hands through.

His eyes that I just want to get lost in.

And god, his hands . . .

My whole body reacts as though remembering the last time we'd touched, his hands settled low on my chest, his lips pressed to mine.

God, this is so wrong to be thinking about right now as I'm holding Brenna in my arms for what might be the last time. So very, very wrong. I open my eyes and push away all thoughts of Coop. And instead, I let myself look at her. She seems so content and peaceful, and she really is such a beautiful person. One of the best people I know.

She's been my best friend for nearly five years now. We've been through so much together, and she's been my rock through it all—always there for me, encouraging me and supporting me and loving me. Asking nothing in return.

And all I can think as I watch her sleep is how much I hate myself for what I've done to her.

I reach up with one hand and gently brush her hair back behind her ear. I don't intend to wake her—after all, I think it's still not even seven, and she hasn't been asleep all that long. But she stirs at my touch, and her eyes blink open slowly. There's a gentle smile on her lips as she looks up at me.

"Good morning, beautiful," I say, and I'm relieved when she smiles wider and her eyes light up a bit.

"Good morning, handsome." She touches my cheek, her fingers tracing along my jawline, but then her smile falters. She ducks her head and then shifts away from me to lie on her back. "Earlier, um, were you able to help Coop?" she asks quietly, and a tense sort of awkward silence fills the room.

I turn so I'm lying on my back as well, and I stare up at the ceiling, my chest feeling tight. "Um, yeah, yeah. He made it to work on time, although he might still need a ride home after his shift. And thanks for letting me use your car. I don't really..."

I trail off, and the silence returns for another moment, thick and heavy and uncertain, until she finally lets out a short breath.

"I don't know what to say," she admits, her voice uncharacteristically shaky and low. "I-I don't know how we even start—I mean, how we even go forward from here."

I feel her turn to face me, but my eyes are closed now, and I can't seem to move. I don't know where we go from here either, how we move forward, how we... separate.

Her hand slips into mine, and she squeezes gently. God, she's so much stronger than I am. She's so much more everything.

She takes another breath and then continues. "There's all the wedding plans to... call off. But then there's also, um, the apartment and the bank account and all the furniture. And—"

"—Speckles and Stripey and Dotty and Fred."

There's a snort of laughter, and I'm finally able to open my eyes as I feel her head rest against my shoulder and her free hand set on my arm.

"Fred's all mine. You can have the others," she says through another laugh.

I turn so I can see her, and she's looking over at me with a small smile, despite the unshed tears still glistening in her eyes.

"I dunno. Fred doesn't like you much."

She giggles again and shakes her head. "Fred loves me the most. Although I'm not sure he'd be happy all alone."

"Fred's a girl, babe," I say, grinning with her. "Remember all those cute little baby guppies we ended up with just a few weeks after we got her?"

"No. I refuse to admit that actually happened." Brenna shakes her head and then rests it back on my shoulder with a quiet sigh. And she's silent for another few minutes.

I'm not sure whether she wants me to talk—make decisions or suggestions, tell her... god, I'm not even sure what. But it seems unfair to assume she's going to start all the conversations, so I take a deep breath to steady myself and give it a try.

"I don't expect anything. I don't, um... Everything is yours, babe. Whatever you want. The apartment, the furniture, the fish. They're all yours."

Her hand tightens on my arm, and I turn onto my side to face her. There are more tears in her eyes, although they're still not falling.

"Honestly, Josh, I-I'm not really worried about all of that. I mean, yeah, I... kind of really like the apartment, and I don't want to move. But I—" She stops and takes a breath that shudders on the exhale, and her eyes study mine as she reaches up and places her hand right on the middle of my chest. "I'm mostly worried about you, about whether you'll be okay."

There's a sharp pain in my chest as her words hit me, and I shake my head.

"No, I don't want—you shouldn't—I mean—"

Her hand presses into me again, and her eyes soften even more. "You're my best friend," she says. "And you've just told me about this secret that you've been keeping for basically your whole life, and I'm guessing that's pretty terrifying. And yeah, we've got to deal with everything now, and—oh, god, my mom's gonna have a fit when I tell her the wedding's off..."

"Brenna—"

She closes her eyes. "No. No, this isn't about her," she says, and her voice is a little unsteady now, like she's struggling to put the words together without breaking down. "It's about us—it's about me and you, and even though this is really, really hard because I wanted... this life together with you, I want you to know that I still love you and I support you no matter what and I'll be here for you, wh-whatever—whatever you need, Josh."

God, I'm crying now, and she's crying too, no longer able to hold her tears back. And I'm reminded just how amazing and wonderful she is and just how much I really don't deserve her.

But this time, when I try to pull her to me for a hug, she shakes her head and pushes away from me to sit up.

"I-I'm sorry," she says quickly, and she wipes her eyes and tries for another smile, but it doesn't quite work. "I was hoping I could do this without crying and without—"

"No, don't apologize, babe, I'm—"

"Can you—can you not c-call me that anymore, please? I'm sorry, I'm not mad. Really. It just... It just hurts too much." She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest as she turns away from me.

I want to speak—to tell her how sorry I am and how none of this is her fault and how I'm an ass—but no words come. I push myself up and scoot to the edge of the bed, but when I stand up and take a step toward her, she shakes her head again.

"I-I just—I think I just need a few minutes. I need to be alone for a few minutes. Please."

God, that hurts. A lot. It's like my chest is tight and something is stabbing my gut, and all the breath is knocked out of me. And yet, even with how rotten this feels—how rotten I feel—I know this is probably only a fraction of what she's feeling.

Somehow I manage to nod, and I back up again. "Yeah. Of course. I'm sorry. I'll just..." I'm not sure what to suggest, so I just motion awkwardly toward the door. Then I turn and grab my coat to head outside. Give her some space.

I'm about halfway to the door, still wiping the tears off my cheeks, when I hear her clear her throat.

"W-wait, Josh, um . . ."

There's a pause as I turn back around, and our eyes meet as this heaviness seems to settle over the room. Everything suddenly feels so real, so final.

She bites her lip, and a tear slips down her cheek. "Actually, um, what if you just take me to my parents' house? I'll stay there for a few days, until we're ready to go back to Omaha. And you can keep the car for now. I mean, in case you, uh, need to pick up Coop again, or—or anything."

I'm not sure what to say, so I nod numbly.

"I'm not mad," she repeats quietly. "I just need some time. Okay?"

"Y-yeah, of course."

Her eyes linger on me for another moment before she looks away. "Just give me a few minutes to pack."