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of leaving this bar alone tonight. She’ll start throwing them back more heavily once some guy starts buying them for her. Then she’ll pretend she doesn’t want to go anywhere, but if some lucky guy reads the signs right he’ll know that Miss Corona-with-Lime is ready to roll.”

      “You are crazy. Do you always do this?” She watched as he shrugged his broad shoulders and nursed his Sam Adams. “What about me? What do my drinks say?”

      “Well...your drinks tell me a couple of things. One, the variety of your drinks tells me that you steal people’s drinks and don’t pay for your own. And second, they say you won’t remember any of what I just said, anyway.”

      “Well, then...why don’t you go buy one for Miss Corona-with-Lime? She’s already looked over here twice.” She was feeling saucy tonight. Josh noticed. Quirked his eyebrow, and gave her a smile.

      “Someone has to keep you from making bad decisions tonight.”

      “And you’re volunteering?”

      “For now. As soon as you start to drive me nuts, I’m bailing.”

      “Good to know I have such a great friend to count on in my time of need.”

      “Any time.”

      The alcohol was definitely starting to go to her head, making her feel all tingly and disjointed. Josh was starting to look a little hazy as he sat across from her giving her the most puzzling looks. He really was beautiful, reminded her of an iron sculpture in a way—masculine, rough, hard edges, but beautiful nonetheless. Even his eyes were metallic in essence: an odd shade of gray, sometimes taking on blue, sometimes green. Women seemed to love them. She found them piercing and cold. She had always preferred blue eyes, like Drew’s were.

      A vivid memory swept over her. She gulped down the last of her drink and signaled for another. Josh looked as if he was about to ditch her. “Don’t leave me.”

      “Why?”

      “I don’t want guys bothering me.”

      “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. They’ll stay far away from you as long as you keep flashing that evil scowl. I think you are scaring everyone in this place, including me. I just need to get some water, and I have no idea where our waitress has run off to. I will be right back.”

      The more she drank, the more she remembered. The more she remembered, the more she drank, an endless cycle of tequila and haunting memories. She and Drew had been high-school sweethearts, planning on forever. She hadn’t just lost her boyfriend that night. She’d lost the love of her life, the kids they would have had, the dream house and the hand that would have held hers as they grew old together. That accident had robbed her of her chance at happiness, stripped her of every dream and desire in one tragic move.

      Oh, gawd. She was even starting to annoy herself. This was just pathetic. The tequila wasn’t working. It was only making it worse.

      “Micah, you’re not looking so good.”

      Well, Josh, you are starting to look really good.

      Oh, my! Where did that come from?

      Josh’s hand cupped her chin, lifting her face until she looked him in the eye. “How many have you had?”

      “That’s irrelevant. Do you know Drew would have been twenty-eight? Can you believe that?”

      “Yeah. It’s hard to imagine.”

      “It’s like his image has been frozen in time. Forever eighteen.”

      “Come on. We need to get you home.”

      “I am fine, Josh. I am not drunk yet. I promise.”

      “Are you kidding me? You’re wasted, like legit wasted. Can’t believe I didn’t stop you before now. You never drink. What’s gotten into you?” His hand wrapped around her arm, urging her to stand and helping her into her coat.

      She didn’t get drunk. She was too much of a lady to act like the common drunken college students who littered this place. Then again, she had consumed a lot. Now that she thought about it, maybe she was drunk, because she could not remember just how many drinks she had had. The room tilted and she was forced to grab Josh for support. Maybe he was right. All she knew was her plan hadn’t worked; she hadn’t drunk enough to forget.

       TWO

      Josh had taken Micah all the way back to her apartment before realizing she had left her purse and keys at the bar.

      “I just miss him so much, Josh.” Micah had been talking like this since they left the pub. This new version of her was getting old fast. Thankfully, this was her first attempt at what he would classify as “escaping the pain.” Although judging by her slurred words on the way home, it hadn’t worked.

      She wasn’t in a good state of mind. It was time someone intervened. And as her best friend, it seemed the responsibility fell in his lap. But now wasn’t the time. He’d talk to her tomorrow.

      “I know. We all do.”

      “But you weren’t going to marry him. I was. You weren’t in love with him. Were you, Josh? I would understand if you were. He was gorgeous.”

      Where was this all coming from? She hadn’t talked this way in years. Until recently, she had appeared normal. He’d never once wondered if she was still hung up on Drew. But since this anniversary started looming over her head, she’d become this depressing, weepy mess that everyone was getting tired of quickly.

      “No. We were just friends, Micah. I prefer women.”

      He would just go with it for now. What else could he do at this point?

      “Yeah, he preferred women, too...maybe too much. One time I caught him kissing another girl.”

      That was news to Josh. He had always suspected something, but never thought Drew would be stupid enough to cheat on Micah. Josh mentally cursed his dead friend.

      “I always thought we would kiss. You know...you and me. Why haven’t you ever kissed me?”

      Josh’s head jerked in Micah’s direction, accidentally turning the wheel with him. They both whipped back and forth as he tried to get his truck under control.

      “Whoa! I think I’m gonna be sick. Can you not drive so crazy?” She let her head fall back on the headrest and closed her eyes.

      What the—? Did she just say what he thought she just said? His eyes kept going back and forth from the road to her.

      She sat up again, her eyes big and round and full of sadness. “I just miss him so much, and no one else does. I just can’t stand it anymore.” Micah burst into tears. The mopey drunk had turned into a weepy drunk right in front of his eyes.

      This was getting ridiculous. Okay, maybe it was far past that point already. Either way, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with this depressed version of his best friend. And where was this talk about kissing coming from? It all had caught him off guard.

      Twelve years ago, when he first met Micah, she was this vibrant ball of fireworks, red hair blazing with the personality to match. After the accident, after they graduated high school, she had disappeared, too caught up in her grief to socialize much. It was understandable. They’d all felt the same way. When college came around, they were thrown together in some of the same courses, and the rest was history. He helped pull her from her despair even though she had never quite returned to her former self.

      He turned to peek at her again. Okay, so maybe he was wrong. He hadn’t cured her completely. His eyes briefly took in the tearstained cheeks before he turned his attention back to the road.

      He needed to see her restored again. Not just to the way she had been these past ten years, but to the vibrant and feisty person she was before Drew.

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