She smiles. We could go on and on about all our memories. The good ones. The funny ones. We never talk about the serious ones. Juno likes to keep those in a locked vault. Unfortunately, many of those times are memories I like to relive. Not because they’re bad, but because of what happened when we comforted one another. The lingering touches, the tight hugs and long holds. The short kisses to cheeks that would continue down the other’s face until our lips met. The soft, hesitant kisses to test if the other one was on the same page. Times when the line would blur slightly with the excuse of comfort.
“Circle around now.” She twirls her finger in the air.
I do as she says, acting like arunway model with my hands tucked into the pockets of my pants.
“You are a classic kind of guy, aren’t you?” Her eyes peruse me and my blood whooshes through my body at her attention.
“I think it’s too dressy though. I mean, we’re having a garden wedding at Selene’s.”
She stares at me, her finger to her lips, tapping like she’s a judge on Top Model. “Let’s see what else Mr. Johnson found.”
I disappear down the hallway and hear her laugh at something Mr. Johnson says.
I take off the tux—which is the one I wore in my head while I waited for Juno to walk down the aisle toward me—and put on a navy suit with a white shirt and burgundy tie. This works better for my wedding with Brigette.
Mr. Johnson takes all my measurements, and I put down the deposit on the suit.
“Lunch?” I ask Juno after we’re out of the shop.
“I should probably get back to the office.”
“That client already come in today?”
“Yeah.” Her mouth opens as though she’s going to say something else, but she doesn’t.
“Then we’re going to lunch. A quick one at Lard Have Mercy.” I bend down so we’re eye to eye.
She nods, and we both turn to take the shortcut through the gazebo and park over to Main Street. Neither of us talks much on the way to the small diner.
We’re seated in a booth in the far corner, with a view of the park. We’ve eaten here so many times I’ve lost count. At thirteen, we came here for fries and milkshakes. By high school, I was getting burgers and onion rings while Juno ordered grilled cheese and ate half my rings. She always refused to order her own. When I came home from college, I started ordering the Salisbury steak while Juno shifted to salads.
“I’ll have soup and salad,” she tells the waitress.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger and onion rings.”
Juno’s head snaps up from the menu. “No chicken and dumplings, old man?”
We hand our menus to the waitress. “I’m feeling nostalgic.”
She tilts her head. “Why?”
I shrug. “I have no idea, but I bet you’ll steal a few onion rings.”
“I like my soup and salad, thank you,” she says. “Not to mention I have to fit into my dress for your wedding.”
“Oh yeah, Brigette mentioned that we haven’t gotten your RSVP yet.”
She takes the bin of jams, organizing them so all the same flavors are once again back together. “Oh, sorry. I thought I had.”
“Are you bringing anyone?” I ask the question that’s been burning inside me.
Brigette actually didn’t notice we didn’t get her RSVP. I did—because I want to know if she’s bringing that douchebag Trey from Los Angeles.
She shakes her head. “No.”
“What’s going on with Trey?”
She’s been tight-lipped about him since whatever happened between them last year, but I know something happened. The jokes her sisters make that quickly cut off when they remember I’m in the room are a pretty good indicator. Trey Galger is a record label owner who’s friends with Phoenix’s boyfriend. He flies his private jet into town every now and then. I hate the guy on principle that he’s not what Juno needs in her life.
She gives me that confused look she does every time I ask about him. “Nothing is going on. The baby shower was the first time I’d seen him in, like, six months.”
For some reason, her brushing it off stokes enough anger inside that I blurt out what I’m really feeling. “Juno, I can’t do this anymore.”
Her head rears back. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about this awkwardness between us. I get that I conveyed to you that I didn’t like Trey and I know I’m getting married and then the whole kiss thing last weekend, but I told you not to worry about it. We’re best friends. What’s happening to us?”
The waitress comes over and brings us our drinks.
We nod our thanks and Juno waits until she leaves to respond. “I’m just embarrassed.”
“Why? It’s not like we haven’t done things like that before.”
“Colton!” She looks around and leans forward, lowering her voice. “You’re engaged. I’m not the kind of person who does that. I barely know Brigette, but I’m not sure I can face her now.”
“You were drunk and…” I decide it’s better to leave out that she was depressed because she’ll just deny it. “And I told you, I’m not going to tell her.”
“Don’t you see?” She ties the straw wrapper in a knot, pulling both ends to see if it breaks. She’s been doing that since high school. It tears right in the middle of the knot, and she crumples it in her hand.
“Someone’s thinking of you.” I nod toward the now-balled white paper.
“I think I’ve just mastered how to pull the paper, so it breaks in the middle of the knot,” she grumbles.
“No, it’s because I’m always thinking of you.”
She blows out a breath and sips her diet soda. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not? I’m your friend.”
“My friend who’s about to become someone’s husband.”
Usually I can figure out Juno, pull out a smile, but this
