I stared directly into her eyes, losing myself in those icy blue pools, the same as I always had. “I miss this.” My finger swirled around, pointing at the drinks, the joint, then finally at Bree. “I miss you.”
Her lips parted, forming a silent gasp. She blinked fast, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks. “What about Ellie?”
“What about her?”
“Aren’t you and her, you know, together?” Bree twisted a strand of blue hair around her finger, something she always did when nerves overcame her.
Slowly, I shook my head. “She may have her own fashion brand, be effortlessly gorgeous and best friends with a supermodel, but—”
“Oh, she’s absolutely perfect then.” Her shoulders sagged and she dropped deeper into the sofa cushions.
“She doesn’t have paint on her fingernails, or a Disney princess plaster protecting a cut on her knuckle.” I took Bree’s hand in mine, my thumb caressing the two things I’d mentioned. “Or a glorious wild streak of blue, which I’ve always loved.” My other hand stroked her hair, where her own was still entangled.
I watched Bree’s breath hitch at my words, as the realisation sank in.
Ellie was nothing compared to Bree.
I wanted to erase four years of hurt. Four years of hooking up with random women who meant nothing. Because all I wanted was right here in front of me.
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