Chapter 20 #2
Brian chuckled, unbothered. “That’s fair. I did my time there too—my brothers and I all worked at the store in high school. Dan ran us almost harder than my drill instructors did in boot camp.”
A flicker of interest broke through Andy’s attitude. “You worked there?”
“Sure did,” Brian said, leaning against the counter. “Stocking shelves, loading mulch bags, and fixing the same damn display every week because customers couldn’t leave it alone. You’ll survive. We all did and turned out just fine.”
Andy didn’t look impressed. He gave a noncommittal shrug and turned to go back down the hallway.
“Andy,” Tess said before he could get too far. “Set the table, please. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“I’ll eat in my room.”
“You’ll eat out here with us,” she countered before adding, “Please? I’ve barely seen you all week.”
He huffed, muttering something under his breath, but entered the kitchen and grabbed the plates and utensils, with a little more force than necessary.
Brian kept quiet, his expression unreadable but his eyes warm, giving Tess the faintest nod of support.
Dinner was tense from the first bite. Brian tried to make conversation—asking Andy how he did on his final exams, about whether he’d seen the new superhero movie with his friends, and if he had plans for the summer other than work.
But Andy answered in clipped one-word replies, his fork scraping the plate with every poke of pasta.
Tess participated in the conversation when she could, gently coaxing Andy to relax and be friendly.
She was grateful Brian didn’t seem put off by her brother’s surly disposition—it was clear he was searching for some common ground between them.
She just wished Andy wasn’t acting like such a butt-head.
“So,” Brian said after a stretch of silence, as he eyed Andy. “Tess said the contractor’s supposed to start next week on the house, right?”
“Yep.” Andy didn’t look up.
“Good. Shouldn’t be long before you’re back home.”
“Guess so.”
Tess set her fork down with a sigh. “Andy, knock it off. Brian didn’t do anything to deserve your attitude.”
Andy flushed red, his jaw tightening. “I don’t have—”
“Yes, you do.” Her tone left no room for argument.
Andy pushed his pasta around his plate for a minute or so, sulking more than eating. Brian waited until he’d taken another bite before speaking again.
“You hear about the Rad-Robot Wars event coming up at R.L. Vaughan Center in a few weeks?”
Andy glanced up, his brow furrowed as if he were suspicious of another attempt at conversation. “Of course. It’s been all over social media. I tried to get tickets, but they went on sale during school. Sold out before lunch.”
Brian smiled, reaching for his soda. “Lucky for you, one of my buddies is working security for the event. He handed me four free tickets this morning. I thought maybe you and Tess might want to go.”
Her brother’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
“Can I bring a friend?” he asked quickly. “Kelle—she’s really into robotics.”
The grin on Brian’s face widened. “Sure. Four tickets, right? That leaves one for me, unless your sister has someone else in mind.”
Tess gave him a stink-eye at the suggestion that there was anyone else she’d rather be with before raising an eyebrow and addressing Andy. “Kelle, huh? Should I assume she’s your girlfriend?”
His face went red immediately, and he shrugged. “She’s just a friend.”
“Uh-huh,” she teased, her smile softening at Brian’s amused expression. For the first time all night, the tension eased out of the room.
By the time they finished dinner, Andy’s sulk had vanished. He even cracked a smile when Brian told him about the time he and his younger brother Sean had taken their uncle’s beat-up Ford out onto the beach at low tide.
They’d been seventeen and fifteen and convinced the old truck could handle anything. It couldn’t. One wrong turn into soft sand, and the rear tires sank fast. By the time they realized the tide was creeping back in, seawater was already swirling around the hubcaps.
“Dan didn’t yell,” Brian said, amusement tugging at his mouth as he wiped his hands on a napkin.
“He just called his buddy with a tow truck and said, ‘You boys better hope he takes payment in manual labor.’ We spent the next two weeks cleaning out the guy’s auto shop until it was spotless—not an easy feat, I can tell you that—and repainting his porch.
That was on top of working at the hardware store. ”
Tess laughed, trying to picture Brian at seventeen, with that same stubborn glint in his eyes, sunburned, sandy, and guilty while his uncle looked on.
Even Andy looked impressed. “So you almost drowned a truck?”
“Almost,” Brian admitted with a grin. “But hey, we learned a few important things that day—never underestimate the ocean, not all truck tires can drive on sand, and don’t borrow your uncle’s keys without asking.”
That earned a genuine laugh from Andy, breaking what was left of his earlier mood.
After the dishes were done and a bowl of popcorn sat waiting on the coffee table, Brian flopped down on the couch. “Hey, Andy—you picking the movie tonight, or what?”
Tess blinked, surprised by the invitation. She’d assumed Brian was only here to spend time with her, not win over her brother.
Also looking a little stunned, Andy hesitated, testing the offer. “Really?”
“Sure,” Brian said with an easy grin. “Your pick—as long as it’s not something your sister disapproves of. I’m not getting on her bad side.”
Tess shot him a mock glare. “You say that like there’s a long list of things that would get you on my bad side.”
“There is.” Andy gave her a teasing smirk as he picked up the remote. He scrolled through the streaming options, eventually landing on an action-adventure movie. “This okay? I haven’t watched it yet.”
Tess nodded. “Sure. I haven’t seen it either.”
“Same,” Brian said. “But I heard it’s good.”
The movie started, and somewhere between explosions and one-liners, Andy finally relaxed—laughing at a few of Brian’s dry comments and tossing back popcorn like it was oxygen.
Tess sat back, watching them both. Something in her chest shifted—warm, unexpected.
She’d thought Brian’s interest was only in her, but the way he treated Andy—with patience, humor, and quiet respect—made her heart twist a little tighter.
While Andy sprawled in the recliner, Brian and Tess sat on the couch, a modest stretch of space between them.
She was grateful he didn’t try to close it—didn’t sling an arm around her or brush her hand in front of her brother.
That would’ve made things awkward fast. But a small, shameful part of her wished he had.
The distance was too deliberate, too polite, and she couldn’t quite ignore how much she missed the warmth of his touch.
The whole scene was almost domestic, and the realization caught Tess off guard.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this—an ordinary evening that didn’t involve cleaning, paying bills, doing laundry, or zoning out in front of the TV alone.
Just a shared bowl of popcorn and the easy hum of company.
She didn’t want to read too much into it, didn’t want to start imagining what it might mean if she did.
Still, when Brian laughed at something on-screen, and Andy grinned before shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth, the moment felt.
.. right. Familiar. Grounded. They even shared the popcorn—though “shared” was generous.
Andy ate most of it, and where he put it all was anyone’s guess. Growing teenage boy and all.
When the credits finally rolled, Andy stretched and stood, brushing popcorn off his jeans. When Tess glared at him, he bent over, picked up the pieces, and tossed them into the empty bowl without an argument. “I’m gonna hop on my computer for a while.”
He disappeared down the hall, his door closing with a soft thud a few seconds later.
Brian leaned back on the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Kid’s got good taste in movies,” he said, his tone easy but warm.
Tess smiled. “He does. And apparently an endless appetite for popcorn.”
“That’s a teenage metabolism for you.” He gave a quiet laugh, glancing toward the hallway before looking back at her. “You want to put on another movie?”
She tucked her legs beneath her, pleased he wasn’t in a rush to leave. “Sure. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
“Then it’s your pick,” he said, leaning back into the cushions. The slight movement brought him closer, enough for her to feel the warmth radiating off him.
She scrolled through the streaming list, pretending to read the titles while acutely aware of him beside her. The sound of the waves filtering in through the open windows and the faint hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet. When she finally settled on something light, he nodded in approval.
As the movie began, Brian shifted, draping his arm across the back of the couch behind her—close, but not quite touching her. The movement appeared casual, but her pulse betrayed her anyway.
A few minutes in, he leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear. “This okay?”
Her voice came out quieter than she intended. “Yeah.”
He let his arm fall lightly around her shoulders, his touch warm and careful. Tess hesitated, then leaned into him. The simple contact sent a slow, comforting ache through her chest. It felt… good. Unexpectedly good. Like remembering what it was to breathe again.
Still, some part of her stayed cautious. Andy wasn’t far—just down the hall—and though she doubted he’d come back out, there was always a chance. She didn’t want to give him a reason to start asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer.
Brian must’ve sensed it too. His hand stayed still, thumb brushing just once against her arm before settling again. After a while, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. It was barely there, but it unraveled something deep inside her.
Neither of them spoke again. They just sat there, breathing in sync, watching shadows flicker across the screen until the credits rolled.
Brian exhaled, reluctantly. “I should probably get going. Early start tomorrow.”
Tess nodded, though her heart sank a little. “Yeah. Same here.”
They stood, and she followed him to the back porch. The night air was warm, humming with the sound of surf hitting the shore and a small symphony of cicadas. The porch light spilled over the steps, catching the faint gold in his light brown hair.
He hesitated, one hand braced on the railing. “Tonight was nice.”
“It was,” she agreed honestly.
Then he leaned in, slow enough that she could stop him if she wanted—but she didn’t.
His mouth found hers, gentle at first, then deepening with a heat that left her breathless.
The world fell away until all she could feel was him—the solid warmth of his chest, the rough drag of the stubble on his jaw, and the way he tasted like mint and something unmistakably him.
When he finally pulled back, his breath brushed her lips. “I should go.”
“I know,” she whispered. But neither of them moved right away.
At last, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on her face. “Goodnight, Tess.”
“Goodnight.”
She watched as he descended the steps and disappeared around the corner of the house toward his car.
Only when the faint sound of his engine starting reached her ears did she let herself take a deep cleansing breath.
Inside, her pulse still hadn’t slowed. The memory of his kiss stayed with her—warm and heady—as she leaned against the door frame and wondered how much longer she could keep pretending this was simple.