Seven
Jackie, Becca, her boyfriend, Lena, her wife, and a couple of other nameless faces formed a half circle around Will and Lexi. Music pumped through the speakers outside while the space heaters glowed orange, making the crispness of the evening air tolerable. The stars wouldn’t show themselves for a bit but the lanterns cast twinkling lights all around them.
“Jackie said you two are engaged as well. Tell us how you met,” Lena said, her voice soft. She glanced pointedly at Lexi, then added, “Were you two neighbors ?”
Lexi was stuck on the clue but also sidetracked by how quickly Jackie had passed that little bit of gossip through the crowd. Lena’s wife, Amelia, gestured to her wife as she spoke to Lexi. “She’s giving you a clue but we still want to know the story.”
Lexi looked up at Will, eyes wide as her mind scrambled for something believable. And how was “neighbor” a clue? Famous neighbors? All that came to mind was Friends, which she and her mom frequently watched old episodes of.
Little creases formed at the corners of Will’s dark, expressive eyes. Only the slightest twitch of his eyebrows revealed his uncertainty at how to respond. He smiled at her, their arms brushing casually. A nothing touch that felt like a hell of a lot at the moment. Her mom might have been right about getting out more. If every whisper of a touch set her skin alight, she was spending too much time alone. Or maybe it was just her—he didn’t seem affected by their casual touches. From the little he said, he spent a lot more time socializing at functions like this than she did. Her socialization tended to come from apologizing to customers in between making them laugh, texting with her bestie, convincing seventy-year-old women that any age was a good age to wear what you wanted, or working in small, online groups for her class. She was too tired to do more at the end of most days so it surprised her to feel somewhat energized in this setting even if the low-key anxiety never fully faded.
All eyes were on her, including Will’s.
His fingers brushed hers; maybe an accident, maybe a show of support. Maybe a reminder to say something so people would stop staring at them. She was starting to when he linked their hands together, lifted them, and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. Her lungs filled but didn’t empty out. Her breath froze in her chest painfully. It was one of those things long-term couples did without thinking because it was part of who they were. That simple kiss reminded her it’d been a hell of a long time—too long—since she’d gotten lost in a man, felt the pressure of his mouth on hers, his body against hers, skin to skin. The gentle press of Will’s lips to Lexi’s skin felt like fireworks dancing in little bursts of light up and down her arms.
Will’s arched brows suggested he had some insight into where her brain had wandered but was also waiting for her to fill in the blanks.
How had they met? She took her hand back and looked at the group. “It’s a funny story, actually. We were both seated at the same table in a restaurant. The hostess mixed up and thought we were together even though we were both alone.”
Jackie’s eyes widened as Nigel came up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “That’s so adorable,” she said, looking back and forth between Will and Lexi.
Lexi nodded in agreement. It was somewhere in the vicinity of the truth. “A classic meet cute.” Just because she didn’t gush over romance books or build little scenes out of them like her mom didn’t mean she was completely unaware.
“A what?” Nigel asked.
Lexi grinned. “When two people meet and it’s cute and the start of their story, it’s called a meet cute. Sorry. My mom reads more romance novels than anyone I’ve ever met so I’m familiar.”
“An apt term,” Will said, taking a sip of his beer.
“Speaking of,” Becca said, her voice soft, especially in the crowd of partygoers, “I’m so sorry about your dad. How is your mom?”
Before Lexi could answer or swallow the lump that immediately lodged in her throat, Jackie reached out, squeezed her arm.
“Me too. I’m sorry we couldn’t come to the funeral.”
Lexi hated the uncomfortable looks, the mood shift, and the piece of her heart that still felt so goddamn fragile.
She felt Will’s solid presence more acutely than she had seconds before, like he’d stepped closer when he heard. She didn’t look at him, knowing, though not knowing why, that if she did she’d lose her weak grasp on composure.
Instead she smiled, nodded her head. “Thank you. I understand. You were at Stanford. That’s a far way to travel and it was honestly so unexpected.”
Becca stepped closer to Lexi and she realized that these two women were genuinely sorry for her loss and not being there. Lexi forgot that at one time, she’d had a wide support system and it wasn’t entirely their fault it disappeared.
“I don’t think it makes it easier even if you see it coming. Is your mom doing okay? I spend most of my day online and I have to say, your social media is seriously lacking, girl.” Becca added the last part in a teasing tone that lifted the mood again.
Lexi laughed as Becca had clearly meant for her to do. What did she do all day? Hang out with sassy geriatrics who thought spandex was a cure-all? Spend her evenings with a woman who preferred romance books to reality?
Stories weren’t her thing but it didn’t mean she couldn’t spin one. “I work a lot. It took time to sort through my father’s business before making the decision to sell it.” She placed a hand on Will’s chest, moving into his side, looking up at him through lowered lashes. “And of course, I spend time with this guy.”
Will’s lips quirked but like a perfect date-not-date-boyfriend-turned-fiancé, he kissed her forehead and smiled at the others. He was really good at playing pretend.
Argh. Forehead kisses. A definite weakness in her shield. Before anyone could ask for more details, she switched the focus. “What about you? Book deal, social media guru. I’m terrible at social media. I can’t see people wanting to know what I ate for lunch or how my cat is doing. Not that I have a cat.” Smooth. Really smooth.
“I just love seeing what other people are up to. I started out sharing my own journey of ups and downs, dating, finding clothing that suited me, getting caught in ruts, you know? After graduating with my psych degree, I wasn’t sure about doing my master’s and started playing around and voilà.” Becca laughed and lifted both hands, palms up. “I started gaining followers, sharing more specific content. I did a series of posts last year under the hashtag MakingItLookEasy. A couple of local brands asked me to be an ambassador and it snowballed. Now I write for different online outlets just as a guest contributor, doing the social media gig while working on my book. Honestly, I just love the whole vibe. All of it. I could scroll through profiles for hours,” Becca said, leaning into her boyfriend in a casual, enviable way.
“You do scroll for hours,” he said affectionately.
“And she makes more than me doing it,” Jackie said with a laugh.
Becca tilted her head to the side, arching her brows at Jackie. “Please. This from the woman who runs her own art gallery downtown?”
Jackie preened a little, looked up at Nigel. “Where I met this guy who was outfitting his new condo.”
They continued to share their stories, their successes, and though Lexi liked hearing that they’d all made it out okay, it was another reminder that when the chips had fallen, she’d left them there in a big pile on the floor. She’d been too busy trying to hold it together to pick them up and move forward.
“Hey, let’s get a post-high-school group shot,” Becca said, turning her phone and pulling the six of them together.
Jackie shook her head but got right in there. “Make sure you tag us all.”
Nigel and Jackie were in the middle, Darcy and Becca on one side, with Lexi and Will on the other. Will was on the end, his arm moving around Lexi’s shoulder when he leaned down a bit. “You okay?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Once the picture was taken, more jokes and laughter were shared, and Lexi waited for her moment to announce she needed a drink. Instead of heading toward the selection in the kitchen, she found the small bathroom down the hallway, closed herself in, and leaned on the door.
Because she was better at avoiding things than facing them, she pulled her phone out to check on her mom and saw Maisie had messaged. Opening the text, she saw the gorgeous photos her friend sent of the wedding venue she was working. Maisie Smart was an amazing photographer. And a kick-ass best friend who would give her shit for hiding in the bathroom instead of enjoying the party, the people, and the exceptionally hot and sweet guy she’d somehow ended up here with.
Maisie
This wedding is incredible. They released doves. Actual doves.
Lexi smiled, typed back:
As opposed to fake ones? Plastic ones? Those would probably fall flat.
Maisie
Hey. Home now, curled into my couch with a good book. How’s the party, funny girl?
Of course, she’d quickly updated her bestie on the events of the day.
Lexi sighed, looked up at the ceiling before answering.
Will is like a made-for-TV date. He’s perfect. My old friends are successful, happily in love, and doing great.
Maisie
I want a picture of Will.
Lexi snorted.
NO.
Maisie
Picture or it’s not real
Lexi could hear the music and laughter through the door. It didn’t feel real anyway. For her, none of this was. Just a weird sidestep the universe thought she should take to remind her that she hadn’t lived up to her full potential.
Putting her phone back in her pocket, she went back to the party through the kitchen, intending to grab that drink.
She found Will by the food, putting tiny little pastries on his plate. His gaze brightened, flickering like the candles, when he saw her coming toward him. A warmth pooled low in her belly. She very much didn’t want to be charmed by this man, but she wasn’t superhuman.
“Why do they make these so tiny?” He asked it quietly, almost conspiratorially. He held the pastry between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you think anyone eats a couple of these and then says they’re full?”
Lexi laughed. She was here having some sort of quarter-life crisis and he was contemplating hors d’oeuvres.
“Maybe so you don’t feel bad trying some of everything? You know, overeating is an issue here in the States and you’re a very strong advocate for healthy eating and lifestyles. You even worked it into legislation.” She took one of the pastries he had on his plate and popped it into her mouth while he contemplated her clue.
He pointed at her, then himself. “Am I Michelle Obama?”
Lexi nodded, surprised by how excited and happy it made her for him to have guessed on her clue. Proof she needed to throw a little more fun into her daily routine. “You are. Now tell me who I am.”
She turned and let him see her back just in case he’d forgotten. Her breath hitched when he stepped into her, his hand on her hip.
“No cheating, Lexi.” The way he said her name sent shivers through her but he stepped back before she could move away (or worse, completely into him).
She turned around slowly, hoping her expression didn’t give away her thoughts. They stared at each other a moment, their gazes locked like some sort of staring contest where whoever looks away first likes the other more. When he looked at her, everything around them blurred and he became her entire focus. Ironic since that was the very reason she avoided relationships.
She grabbed another one of those little pastries, popped it in her mouth. Couldn’t say too much if your mouth was full. She chewed, pretty sure it was quiche. The tiniest quiche ever.
“By the way, I bet you my younger sister could rival your mom for romance reads and romcom movie marathons.”
Happy to focus on something other than the attraction making her skin feel too tight, she finished her food. “Oh yeah? Do you watch them with her?”
He laughed. “I do.” He winced like he was embarrassed. “I totally knew what a meet cute was.”
Laughter burst from her chest, surprising her with its intensity; it nearly felt foreign, but damn it felt good.
“We do weekly movie nights and she gets to pick. She says it’s because women don’t have enough power in our business and this is her way of exercising it, but really, she’s just bossy.”
“I think I’d like her. One sister?”
They wandered away from the table, finding a little corner to chat.
“Two. I’m in the middle. You?” He leaned against the frame of the archway leading to what looked like an office.
“Only.”
“I’m sorry about your dad.”
Lexi looked down. “Long time ago now.” Long enough for her and her mom to have moved on. She forced a smile when she met his eyes again. “I was twenty-two. Finishing school.”
“On a track scholarship,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I used to be great,” she said in a teasing voice.
“I think you still are.”
Before her insides could flutter from the sincerity of his tone, he asked, “How fast are we talking?”
She stood straighter. “National champion. My last two-hundred meter was twenty-three seconds.”
“Holy shit,” he said, pushing off the wall.
Little flickers of pride she’d forgotten existed inside her flared to life. “Long time ago.”
“You still run?”
Had he moved closer? “No.”
Music floated through the patio doors, something up-tempo with a heavy amount of bass. Or maybe that was her heartbeat.
His fingers brushed hers. “It’s been a while?”
She nodded slowly. Running. They were talking about running.
“Do you miss it?”
She hadn’t thought much about running or its absence from her life but she realized that yes, she really did. “I do.”
He nodded decisively. “If I can beat you at a race, you go out with me on a date-date.”
She grinned. “What, like now?”
He shrugged.
“You are an intriguing man, Will.” That was putting it mildly, but she didn’t want to acknowledge all of the other adjectives running around in her head, never mind admit them out loud.
The air grew thick between them, and for a minute Lexi thought about what it would be like to find her other half. To have a person to hang on to, share stories with, end the day with. Maybe not everyone got that. She could be one of the ones who didn’t. Then she thought about how her mother ended every day since she’d lost her person. Being alone didn’t seem so bad. But neither was this. Maybe life offered something in between.