She wrinkled her nose. “I still seem to have a problem with that. The not-thinking-ahead part.”

“Like when you automatically agreed to refurb and sell a bookstore with your sworn enemy?”

Kincaid stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. “How about I take you off the sworn enemies list? There’s a loophole in the must-hate-you contract.”

“A loophole?”

“Yeah, the I-took-your-virginity-and-called-you-by-my-boyfriend’s-name loophole. There’s also the we-were-seventeen-and-completely-annihilated-by-grief clause.”

He couldn’t help but notice she said boyfriend and not ex. What did you call someone who you never got to break up with? “Those are very specific loopholes.”

“So I am willing to agree that we were both kids and that we’ve both made mistakes. You’ve made more. Let’s be clear on that,” she said, poking him in the shoulder. “You abandoned a girl with abandonment issues.”

He smirked at the glimpse of normal Kincaid surfacing. “Noted.”

“But it’s been fourteen years of letting those assholes who brought guns to prom demolish our friendship,” she said, irritation coming into her voice. “If they never showed up, we don’t end up traumatized. Graham never dies. You and I never sleep together. We never hurt each other like we did. That’s my new what-if.”

Something twisted deep in his chest, painful and wistful at the same time.

“What-ifs still don’t change anything,” he said quietly.

“Yes, but we can,” she said, resolve in her voice. “Grace and Charlie need us. We’re not going to let them down because of the past. This”—she indicated the space between them with her hand—“is day one of Ash and Kincaid’s friendship 2.0.”

Ash stared at her, taken aback. “Friendship.”

“Yes. Now if it gets screwed up, we can only blame ourselves. No one else gets a hand in that, especially cowards with guns.” She nodded as if she was stamping approval on her own declaration. “Our fresh start begins now.”

“You assume I’m going to agree to this.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please, you know you want me around. I am an amazing friend. I could give classes on how to be an awesome friend.”

“Superhumble, too,” he teased. “As always.”

“Plus,” she said, her tone turning chipper. “Grudges give people bad wrinkles. When I’m an old lady, my wrinkles damn well better be smile lines.”

Ash laughed under his breath, taking the olive branch she was offering him with both hands. “Hashtag LifeGoals.”

She reached out and touched the spot between his brows. “You better start working on that goal more. You’ve already got the frowny face started. Serious writer looks very serious. Maybe some moisturizer.”

“Hey,” he said, batting her hand away and grinning. “Writing takes some hard thinking. These are thinking lines. It makes me distinguished.”

She patted his cheek. “Keep telling yourself that, sugar. Now let’s bring these lovely people some coffee before they send out a search party.”

Ash grabbed the cream from the fridge, his head spinning with the sudden shift in events, in his world, really. He and Kincaid were going to try to be friends again. He didn’t know what to do with that.