Free A Toast to the Good Times by Liz Reinhardt, Steph Campbell

table.
    “It’s okay.” Her smile is a cool punch, like a strong Tom Collins on a hot day. “The thing is...I started thinking about you, about us, and, I kept waiting to get really mad. I mean, you were kind of a huge dick to me the entire time we dated, and I was so completely heartbroken and hung-up over you. But...I don’t know, I’ve always had this soft spot for you. And, even though I tried, I just couldn’t get pissed at you. And now that I see you, I feel...honestly? I feel kind of bad for you, Landry.”
    “Why?” I back up to the corner of the booth and catch my own reflection in the dark diner window.
    Alright, so I look pretty rough. It’s been awhile since I shaved, I need a couple good nights’ sleep in a row, I’m a little haggard and a bit hung-over , but I’m not exactly a guy to be pitied.
    Am I?
    “Because you’re still running from anything good and solid in your life. I heard about Heather and Tyler .” She takes a deep breath. “Seriously, Landry? It’s like you handpick people who suck. I guess I just want to say that you deserve better. When everything happened with me and you and especially right after that night, there was someone, this one unexpected person, who sat me down and he told me that I deserved better. And, even though I couldn’t really process it then, I’ve held onto his words for years. They helped focus me whenever I felt like things were a mess, whenever I felt like I should just give it up or that I should just try to make it work with you even though we were both miserable. I didn’t realize for a long time how much what he said meant to me, but now I feel like...I finally get it.”
              “Who was it?”
    I think back to the guys who threw me envious looks when I walked around with Toni. The problem isn’t remembering who did that; the problem is so many guys did, the list is crazy long.
    “It doesn’t matter.” She pretends that she’s shaking my question off, like it’s no big deal, but she shifts her eyes and smooth’s her hair and her shirt, that way she does when she gets super nervous. “What matters is that now I’m going to tell you something as someone who honestly has your best interests at heart, and I want you to seriously listen to me.”
    She looks right at me, right into my eyes and speaks slowly, clearly.
    “You can do better. You should do better. Because I truly believe you’re a good person. I’ve always cared about you, and I always will. But you need someone to tell you to pull your head out of your ass, or you’re never going to be happy.”
    “And that someone is you?” I grin at her, and she chuckles.
    “I don’t see anyone else lining up to help your stupid ass out.” She sips her soda, her lips gorgeous around that straw.
    She’s damn gorgeous. All of her. And it occurs to me that maybe this is my chance to get something back that I threw away when I was so damn young and dumb. I’ve been an ass, but maybe it isn’t too late to change that.
    There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the chance to see her in a few scraps of lace and some sweet body powder now.
    I lean over the table and try to communicate my regret, the chance that I’m willing to take with her, my intentions, my apologies. I look at her and hope it all comes through, because I know my words won’t really be enough.
    “Maybe I don’t have to look all that far to find someone way better than I deserve.”
    She snorts and half-chokes on her soda. She gasps and grabs some napkins to cover her mouth. I get nervous, but she’s telling me that she’s fine through more wheezy laughter.
    “Oh, that was so damn corny, Landry! Thank you.” Her laughs bubble up again, and, honestly, she’s losing cute points right and left. “Oh my god, look at you pouting! You’re actually pouting? We’re nothing but wrong for each other. Is that not beyond obvious?”
    “But you just said...” I lift my hands. “On the train, you kissed...