Chapter 3 #2
I huffed a quiet laugh and shook my head. “You do realize this is the pot calling the kettle black, right? We run the same playbook. You just swipe right on women, and I take my chances with men.”
His mouth twitched.
“Different equipment,” I added lightly. “Same emotional escape hatch.”
Renzo snorted into his beer.
I turned the question right back around. “So, let’s talk about you for a second, Casanova. How’s the Rainbow Taproom treating you? Still a fan favorite among the Maxie Glam fan club?”
Renzo smirked, ducking his head like he wasn’t just a little proud of the title. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. The straight girls practically line up after the drag shows like you’re the final rose on The Bachelor.”
He rolled his eyes. “I go on dates, that’s all. That doesn’t make me a… ”
“… serial dater?” I offered helpfully.
Renzo shrugged. “I like getting to know people.”
“And then promptly ghosting them after two dates.”
“That’s not fair,” he said, fighting a smile. “Sometimes three.”
I laughed and clinked my beer against his. “Hopeless romantic, clearly.”
The truth was I wasn’t tired of it.
Not exactly.
But sometimes, I wondered what it would feel like to have someone who stuck, without it feeling like something I’d eventually screw up just by staying too long.
Someone who saw all my bullshit and stayed anyway.
And without thinking, my eyes went back to Sam.
By the time dinner wound down, the energy had shifted.
Jules was beside Elliott on the bench. Callie was still deep in conversation, and Renzo had wandered off with his best friend Harper in search of dessert.
I lingered near the porch, finishing the last of my beer, when I saw Sam heading my way.
He flopped into the chair beside me, stretching his legs out with a sigh.
“Escaping the matchmaking attempts?” I asked, grinning.
He groaned. “Jules and Callie are relentless.”
I laughed. “They mean well.”
“Yeah, well, they can mean well from a distance.” He tipped his head back, staring at the string lights above us.
“I swear, they think just because I’m single, I must be miserable.”
“Are you?”
He looked over, eyes narrowing slightly. “Miserable?”
“Single,” I clarified. “Are you miserable about it?”
He exhaled, considering. “Not really. I mean, it’d be nice to have… something. Someone. But I’ve never been good at that part.”
I frowned. “What part?”
Sam shrugged. “The whole thing. Dating. Relationships. I’m a good friend. The reliable guy. But the second it turns into something more, it fizzles.”
Something about that didn’t sit right.
“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re not the problem?” I asked.
Sam blinked, lips parting slightly, like the thought had never actually occurred to him.
I watched him. There was something honest in the way he looked back. Like he wasn’t trying to impress me.
“That’s not usually what people say,” he said, finally.
“Well, I’m not most people,” I said with a shrug. “And I’ve seen enough to know you’re not the type who fizzles out. You simply haven’t found someone who knows what to do with your kind of fire.”
His mouth curved, just a little, like he didn’t want to smile but couldn’t help it. “You always talk like that?”
“Only after two beers, Jules’ sangria, and a sunset,” I said, raising my bottle in mock salute.
He nudged my boot with his. “You know, for someone with a reputation, you’re kind of a softie.”
“Careful,” I warned. “Say things like that and I’ll start talking about feelings.”
“I think you just did.”
We sat in the warmth of that moment, not saying anything for a beat. The sounds of the party, laughter, clinking bottles, music drifting in through the open window blurred behind us.
I glanced over at him. “Are you still going rafting tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Evan talked me into it. Said I needed some kind of adrenaline cleanse.”
I chuckled. “It’s gonna be cold.”
“Callie promised thermoses of spiked cider,” Sam said. “And I heard the guide might be cute, so… you know. For morale.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s what we’re calling being horny now? Morale?”
Sam shrugged, grinning. “I’m a teacher. I believe in strong team dynamics.”
“I’ll believe that when you don’t nearly fall out of the raft trying to flirt with a guy holding a paddle.”
“That only happened once,” he said, deadpan.
“Oh, so you admit it happened.”
He laughed and something about the sound settled under my skin in a way that felt dangerous.
We’d been part of the same crew for years now.
The group hangs at The Stag & Lantern, movie nights on Jules and Elliott’s couch, overly competitive trivia nights, and road trips that end in stories no one would ever repeat.
He was woven into it all, still and quiet, and somehow always in the background of my favorite memories.
Before he could say anything else, a sudden hush fell over the crowd.
I looked up just in time to see Elliott clearing his throat, standing awkwardly, his hand slipping into his jacket pocket and pulling out a little box.
Oh, shit.
It was subtle at first. Just a shift in the air. Jules, mid-laugh, turned to him with that crooked smile he always got when Elliott did something unexpected. But when he saw what was in Elliott’s hand, his whole expression cracked wide open.
His hands flew to his mouth.
And that’s when I knew.
The yard went still. Even the string lights seemed to hum quieter.
We watched as Elliott dropped to one knee, as Jules blinked like he couldn’t quite believe it, as his eyes welled up and his breath caught. For once, the guy had nothing to say. No witty one-liner or deflection, just raw awe.
Elliott’s voice carried through the stillness. I couldn’t make out every word. Something about home and laughter and choosing each other, always, but the weight of it landed anyway. Heavy. Holy. Like observing someone open their chest and hold out their whole damn heart.
And then, finally Jules choked out a stunned, tearful, “Yes.”
The yard exploded.
Cheers and applause, laughter and a few muffled sobs from somewhere near the back. Jules was laughing and crying at the same time, holding out his hand to look at the ring, his fingers still trembling. Elliott looked completely undone, beaming like he’d just won every bet he’d ever made on love.
I stood there, cheesing like an idiot, and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Finally!” I shouted. A couple people echoed it, and Jules shot me a mock glare that didn’t quite reach his watery smile.
And then Sam’s shoulder bumped mine.
It wasn’t much. Just a soft nudge, like maybe he’d leaned in to laugh and forgot to lean back. But he didn’t move away.
And neither did I.
We stood like that, side by side, close enough to feel the heat of each other even in the cool night air as the celebration swirled around us.
A few feet away, Caleb barreled out of the crowd, eyes glassy and face flushed, and threw his arms around his dad.
Elliott caught his son in a tight hug, whispering something into his ear that made his face beam even brighter.
Caleb turned and wrapped his arms around Jules, and the two of them just stood there as a new family, and held on.
Eventually, the crowd began to drift and thin. Conversations turned softer. Music turned down. But I wasn’t going anywhere without saying something first.
“C’mon,” I murmured to Sam, touching his arm. We walked across the grass together.
I reached Jules and Elliott first, pulled Jules into a hug, and kissed his cheek. I looked at Elliott and said, “You did good, Teach.”
Elliott laughed, pulling me in next. I kissed his cheek too.
Sam hugged them both, warm and genuine.
I looked around, catching sight of an empty spot near the fire pit. “Hey,” I said to Elliott, lowering my voice just enough. “Did I see Noah and Evan slip out together?”
Elliott’s brows lifted, amused. “Maybe. My moody, grumpy friend might actually be considering enjoying someone else’s company. Who knows?”
Sam let out a low whistle. “Honestly? Evan’s a catch.”
Elliott smirked. “So is Noah. If Evan sticks it out long enough to figure that out.”
We all burst into real, warm, buzzed-on-happiness laughter at that.
Just then, Callie jogged up, their cheeks pink from the fire.
“Okay, I gotta bounce. I promised my brother I’d call him tonight, but this was perfect.
” They kissed Jules’ cheek, gave Elliott a dramatic curtsy, and turned to Sam.
“Hey! The thermoses are on my counter. Prepped and waiting to be filled. You better be ready for that river.”
Sam smiled. “That’s actually why I’m heading out too. I want at least one solid night of sleep before Evan gets me killed on a raft.”
Callie waved dramatically. “You’ll all thank me when the cider kicks in. Love you all!”
As they disappeared toward the driveway, Renzo and Harper sauntered over, finishing off cupcakes and beaming like they were the final act of the evening.
“Night, lovebirds,” Harper called, wagging his brows at Jules and Elliott.
Renzo clapped Elliott on the shoulder, hugged Jules with one arm, then turned to me. He said nothing. He just gave me the look. Two fingers pointed at his eyes, then at me. The universal ‘I’m watching you.’
I rolled my eyes in disbelief.
Sam turned his head, just starting to notice. So, I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, gently steering him back toward Elliott and Jules before he could see, not ready to deal with whatever that look meant yet.
He blinked, confused for a second, but let it go.
Renzo grinned. He knew exactly what he’d done. Harper high-fived him, and off they went into the night.
Elliott reached down and twined his fingers with Jules’. “We’d join you guys tomorrow, but… ”
Jules laughed. “We have plans.”
“Big ones,” Elliott added, kissing his fiancé’s temple.
“Evan invited us,” Jules said, “but this is our weekend now.”
“Rightfully so,” Sam said, smiling softly.
We all lingered a few seconds more, as if no one wanted to be the first to break the spell. Eventually, the night wound down.
Sam and I ended up leaving at the same time, falling into step without needing to say much. We slipped through the gate at the side of the house, the soft creak of the latch giving way to the quiet of the street beyond.
“See you in the morning,” he said as we reached our cars, his keys jangling in his hand.
“Bright and early,” I said, giving him a small nod. “Don’t forget your spirit of adventure.”
He laughed, “Assuming I ever had one.”
I smiled and goaded. “Guess we’ll find out.”
He opened his car door. I opened mine.
And that was it. A simple goodnight.