20. Kieran
Chapter 20
Kieran
My molars were going to be dust by the time the night was over. Every time I saw Clay glance over at Archer or get the cold shoulder from Shane, my jaw clenched. I understood their anger at him. Well, I understood Archer’s anger. And Shane was angry out of love and loyalty to him, which meant when Archer actually spoke to Clay, my jaw relaxed for the first time that night.
The evening went smoother than I’d expected it to. That was probably because Mom was there so everyone was on their best behavior.
I excused myself to use the bathroom. Dinner had been over for an hour, but the chit-chat was still in full swing and Mom looked so happy being surrounded by a bunch of her favorite people that I didn’t have the heart to go. Besides, I wanted Shane and Archer to leave first so I could whisk Clay away without having to deal with my brother.
I’d ducked into the bathroom and when I came out, freshly drained and hands washed, Shane was lurking in the hallway waiting for me.
“Need the can?” I stepped out of the way so he could go in, but he didn’t. Instead he stared me down and I thought for a moment that he knew what was going on. That he’d seen something, a look, a longing, pass between Clay and me, and he’d guessed there was something between us.
“I talked to Brodie,” Shane said, catching me off-guard. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a look of deep discomfort clouding his expression. “You weren’t completely off-base. It wasn’t as bad as you made it sound, but he did kind of feel like I was shoving him away. Like I didn’t want him around.”
“I’m still sorry. Not for what I said, but maybe how I said it. I probably could have been nicer.”
Shane gave me a half smile. “A little,” he agreed. “He’s planning a trip home soon. I told him to stick around for a while. But don’t tell Mom; he wants to surprise her.”
“Her birthday is soon. Is that when he’s coming?” I asked, because it’s when I would come. I missed my kid brother. We talked here and there and he emailed about some of his grander adventures, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him.
“That’s the plan. Now I better get in there before I piss myself.” Shane stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. Relief that he hadn’t brought Clay up sighed out of me. Guilt pricked my spine, my skin, my stomach. I liked Clay. I liked him more than I’d liked anyone in a long time.
And I hated that I cared about Shane’s opinion of it. But I’d always pictured bringing someone home and introducing them to everyone. In my mind, it was easy. If I loved someone, my family would love them. Shane tolerated Clay at best. How would he react if he knew how I felt?
How I felt?
I rubbed my sternum as if I could reach into my chest and pull out the little glowing ball of warm affection I had for Clay and examine it up close. How did I feel?
I liked him. He wasn’t perfect, but he was trying to do better. He seemed genuine in his gratitude for everything Shane did for him. Mom liked him. She treated him like one of her kids, which was how she treated a lot of the people who came to stay with her. Brodie knew about him, but only the highlights. He’d never been the type to hold things against anyone, so I didn’t see him taking issue with Clay and me being together.
Were we together, though? Would he even want to be? The sound of the toilet flushing yanked me back to reality and I hurried out of the hallway. I snagged a handful of snickerdoodles from the jar and went outside. Keeping two for myself, I gave the others to Clay.
“What, none for me?” Archer asked. He looked like he was trying hard to be amused, to make a joke or something, but his tone was still strained.
“Mom made these for Clay. They’re his favorites. But these cookies are my delivery fee.”
Clay leaned over and handed a cookie to Archer who took it with a shaky smile that wasn’t sure if it wanted to be a smile or not the way it faltered and tried again. It felt like a peace offering. A token of not friendship, but maybe a truce. It gave me hope that maybe if Archer was softening toward his former friend, that Shane might too.
Shane returned and dropped down next to Archer again, but the evening seemed to be coming to an end. Tia and Julie said their goodbyes and Mom followed them inside to send some treats with them. The four of us were suddenly alone on the deck with no adult supervision.
“We should go,” Archer said, standing up suddenly, like he now couldn’t wait to get away. And maybe he couldn’t. He’d spent months avoiding any mention of Clay, nursing wounds and trying to get his life back in order only to turn around and be coerced into having dinner with him.
Shane stood too, taking Archer’s hand. He nodded at me, ignored Clay, and they disappeared into the kitchen to say their goodbyes to Mom. And probably get more cookies for later. It’s what I would do .
Next to me, Clay let out a deep breath.
“I’m kind of glad they’re leaving,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah?” My gaze darted toward the house to make sure no one was coming.
“I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my life. I thought I was going to die for the first hour. I don’t think I took more than ten breaths the whole time.”
It was an exaggeration, of course, but I understood what he meant. The pressure around my chest as I waited for Shane to see something pass between us that shouldn’t made it hard to breathe sometimes.
But the discomfort wasn’t enough to deter me. Clay had gotten under my skin and no amount of disapproval was going to dig him out.
“It’ll get easier. It looks like you two made some headway.”
“I’m surprised he took the cookie.” Clay brushed stray cookie crumbs off his lap. “Even if it means he doesn’t hate me anymore, I still don’t think he likes me very much. He couldn't get out of here fast enough.”
I nudged Clay’s foot with my own. The little jostle made him look at me.
“I don’t think he took more than ten breaths the whole night either. Both of you were too occupied with not paying attention to the other guy.”
Clay looked away. I watched him take a bite of his last cookie and after he swallowed, he looked back at me.
“Do I get a ride in your car still?”
“I was counting on it.” I stood and pulled my keys out of my pocket. “Did you have anywhere in particular you wanted to go?”
“Not really. I’m not from here,” Clay reminded me .
“I’ll show you around. Come on.” I urged Clay to his feet. There were a million different places I could take him so it was hard to decide at first. We bid my mom a quick goodbye and she watched us leave without letting on if she was suspicious or not. Not that it mattered anyway. It wasn’t her I was worried about.
I loved Shane. Our relationship over the years was endlessly evolving. Sometimes we were closer than others, but we’d never been enemies and I didn’t want to have to choose between him and Clay. The conflict between them wasn’t something that was easily solved and I understood why. And so did Clay. But Archer was a good person. It spoke volumes about his heart and I got why Shane would fall for someone like that.
But Clay was beginning to feel necessary.
Climbing into the passenger seat, he buckled up and looked at me. The smile on his face was lighter and more free than any of the ones I’d seen him force over the course of the evening.
“Leather seats.”
“They’re heated too.” I started the car and backed out of the driveway. “Are you hungry? I noticed you didn’t eat much dinner.”
“I could eat.” Clay kept himself busy by examining the buttons and knobs in the dash. He fiddled with the satellite radio until he found a station he liked, but he kept the volume low.
I grabbed us milkshakes and fries at a drive-thru. I licked salt off my fingers and drove through town, listening to Clay hum along in between bites.
“Are you going to take me to one of the make-out spots you went to when you were in high school?”
His question took me by surprise and I barked out a laugh.
“Is that where you want to go?”
Clay shrugged .
“If you want to go make out somewhere, I could take you back to my place.”
It felt like the next logical step, and yet something that was also long overdue. Glancing at Clay, I watched him bite his lower lip.
“I’d like to see where you live.”
Clay’s admission felt like a victory and I took the next left, entering my neighborhood. I lived in a quiet suburb on the outskirts of town. It was an older neighborhood with small box-like houses that were built in the 1950s before open concept was a thing.
I pulled into the driveway of my little blue box and turned the engine off.
“I got the house for a steal. I had to paint the outside and hang new shutters. Put in new windows so they’re more energy efficient. I haven’t had time to do much with the landscaping, though.”
A row of sad little half-alive shrubs lined the front of the house. My idea of landscaping was mowing the grass, but I found myself wanting to impress Clay.
“It’s cute.” He looked like he meant it. “It looks cozy.”
We got out of the car and made our way to the side door. Only solicitors used the front door. The side door opened into the utility room off the kitchen. A load of clean laundry sat heaped in the basket on top of the dryer and I cursed myself for being lazy and not putting it away.
Clay didn’t notice, or care, about my laundry. He toed out of his shoes and followed me into the kitchen.
“I’ve never been in a kitchen that had a door before.”
“It’s not the original door. That had been removed, but I liked the idea of a separate kitchen. I’m not the ‘come on over and be entertained’ kind of person, so I don’t really care if I can’t see the living room from the stove.”
“It’s cute, but I bet your bedroom is cuter.” Clay stepped into my space and slid his hands around my waist. Well, one hand, one cast. He looked down and chuckled softly. “It’s going to be so nice to get this thing off of me.”
“The bedroom is the last stop on the tour. Next up is the living room.”
I took his good hand and led him through the door to where my comfortable, gray sectional took up the bulk of an entire wall. An older coffee table, the kind that was heavier than a dead body, sat on an area rug. The standard flat-screen TV set-up sat across the room from the sectional. My curtains were always drawn because I hated feeling like I was in a fishbowl when people drove by and stared in the large picture window. The unused front door was next to the window and a small closet was tucked in adjacent.
“We could make a pit stop on your couch. It looks like it would be good for kissing.” Clay ran the tips of his fingers along the fabric.
“The bedroom really is a must-see.” Something in my chest tightened as I led him down the hallway. I didn’t bother showing him the second bedroom or the bathroom, though I did point them out to him. My bedroom was the bigger of the two that overlooked my uninspiring back yard. A king-size bed would’ve been nice, but a queen left more room in the space. It wasn’t anything special, but at least I’d made my bed that morning. Sort of. I’d tossed the dark blue blanket back over the rumpled sheets. A paperback sat on the nightstand, open to where I’d stopped reading, but face down.
“It’s nice.” Clay scanned the room and though it was silly, his approval made me warm inside. I wanted him to like my space, to be comfortable in it. “But it would be nicer—”
“If we were kissing?” I asked, stepping in closer, brushing our chests together, grazing my knuckles down the side of his face .
“You’re getting it.” He leaned in, rose up, and pressed his lips against mine.
And my heart sang.