Honey, Make This Easy

Part 3

Sam was a surprisingly consistent texter, reaching out to you at least once a day. He would say hi, ask you about whether the selection of beers the bar had on tap was enough for the average patron, and on the Wednesday after the grand opening, put you in a group chat with he and Jake, so you had his number too.

On Thursday, they asked if you planned on going to the Garden's Gate that weekend. You were laying on your couch when the text came in, and you felt yourself sink deeper into the cushions as you considered. Reconnecting with Jake and Sam had been incredible. It didn't feel like you had spent years apart, it just felt like you had gone away for the summer and had since been updating each other on all your adventures. You were eager to spend more time with them.

On the other hand, going to the bar meant seeing Josh, and that you weren't so eager for.

You were (mostly) over the whole situation. You understood where Josh was coming from and, yeah, it was years ago so you supposed apologies didn't mean that much now....

Except they totally fucking did. If Josh had just said sorry and meant it? Beyond apologizing because Jake had told him to? Then maybe you could really, truly, actually be over it. But until then, you would continue to resent him just a little bit and do your best to avoid him.

You told Jake and Sam that you couldn't make it to the bar this weekend, but maybe next time. You gave a thin excuse, something about having work to catch up on, and knew that they could see through it. You couldn't bring yourself to care too much, though.

So, instead, you spent your weekend drinking wine in your living room, watching Jane Austen movies, and looking at cat adoption websites.

On Sunday, Jake called you at 10:30, waking you from a hungover dream about adopting a cat that grew to be the size of a house.

"Hello?" You rasped.

"Hey, sleepyhead. You sure you didn't go out this weekend? Sounds like you had quite the night and now have quite the hangover," he laughed.

You rubbed the heels of your palms into your eyes and groaned. "One too many glasses of wine alone on the couch and this is my punishment."

Jake laughed again, then asked if you wanted to grab lunch in a couple hours, only if you were feeling up to it. You agreed to meet him at a taco place that was a midpoint between the Garden's Gate and your apartment in two hours before he had to go to the bar and sign for the week's deliveries.

You hung up the phone, popped a few ibuprofen to fight the growing headache thudding behind your eyes, and jumped in the shower to wash away the rest of your sad, solitary evening.

Soon enough, you were driving to the restaurant in your favorite pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt you'd had since high school. Honestly, it felt like you were back in your teenage years, hopping in the car to go grab pancakes or sneak into a movie. You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from your chest as you pulled your car into the lot, seeing Jake leaned against his own and smoking a cigarette, waving when he caught your eye.

He stubbed the cigarette out with his boot and sauntered his way over to your car as you got out. Jake offered a hand to help you stand when you stepped from your car, and you took it with a smile, hugging him in greeting.

"Hi, Jake," you greeted. As you pulled away from his hug, you tugged gently on a lock of his hair. "How's it going?"

"Oh, you know. Every day is a new paradise."

You rolled your eyes and together, you walked into the restaurant.

The two of you ordered at the counter and grabbed an order number. You found a table out back while Jake got you both drinks, and soon your tacos arrived. You quickly fell back into an easy banter, one that you remembered well from years ago. You would steal a bite of Jake's food, he'd swipe a sip of your drink, but mostly you'd talk about anything and everything that came to mind.