Chapter Twenty-Two
MORGAN
Ava’s bridal party chatters, several rising to greet Mrs. Pax, but all I can focus on is the beautiful boy—smiling at me and reclining against my car across the decorative fence separating us brunch-goers from the parking lot. My pulse has picked up into high gear.
Tonya slides down a few seats and nudges my arm. “Is that Leo? He’s yummy.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“I’m surprised he came.” Ava flicks my hand. “Did you know he would be here?”
Leo smiles even wider, enjoying our attention.
“No.” My insides are ajumble. “We talked yesterday, but he didn’t mention it.”
What will my parents think about him being here?
What do I think?
What will Will think?
I shift in my seat. Will’s no longer where he stood only a moment ago. He’s pushing through the patio gate.
I open my mouth to call him back, but what would I say?
The maid of honor whispers, “Things. Just. Got. Interesting.”
I sigh. “I don’t know about interesting. But complicated.”
Ava lets out a low whistle. “Oh, it’s interesting. That’s for sure.” She grabs her phone. “I have to text Hudson.”
“Don’t.” I grip her hand, stilling her. “Please. Besides, you promised you wouldn’t communicate today until you see each other at the altar.”
“Fine.” She huffs and clatters her phone to the wooden tabletop. “But guess what we’re going to whisper about while the minister is talking.” She flashes a devious smile, and Tonya laughs.
“Ava,” I scold.
“I’m kidding, of course.”
Fran stands and taps her knife against her third mimosa. “Ladies, ladies, can I have your attention.”
Tonya returns to her seat, as do the other ladies who had begun milling about the patio.
Once Fran has waited a beat too long, ensuring she has every eye upon her, she continues. “This morning, we celebrate my dear Ava. What a glorious time for all those who love her to gather together.”
A general murmur of ascent rises.
Fran gestured toward her daughter. “Ava, dear, would you, first, like to say a few words to your guests? And then perhaps tell them some of your love story.”
Ava stands, gripping her napkin. My poor friend wasn’t expecting this. Fran waves her to the front, jittery with excitement. Only someone truly oblivious to the inner workings of an introvert would put one on the spot like this. If there’s any word that describes Fran, it’s oblivious.
Here at this table, we’re all friends and family, and though her cheeks are flushed, Ava moves to the head of the table and speaks with quiet confidence.
“I want to thank all of you for joining us today and some of you for the entire weekend. I’m so honored you have taken the time to travel to this lovely, albeit remote spot in Oklahoma that means so much to Hudson and his family and now to me as well.”
Leo has moved on, and the pale-blue stain reflects the sunlight.
Ava gives me a wistful grin, then eyes my car. “And as far as my love story goes, I would love to tell you it was love at first sight, but it just wasn’t. Love is messy. We all know that. I didn’t even like Hudson at first. A true enemies-to-lovers story for those of you who read romance novels.”
Emma, the in-resident romance author, puts her chin on her palm, a dreamy glaze in her eyes. “My favorite trope.”
We laugh at this.
“Sure.” Ava flips a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“He was cute, but it took me a while to work out my feelings and give it a chance. I told myself, ‘Hey, there’s something between us, and I’m not sure what it is.
It might be nothing, but it might be something.
’” She lifts a shoulder. “Turns out it was something.”
“And the rest is history,” Fran croons, wiping her eye, but I doubt there’s moisture there.
Ava slides in next to me and jostles my shoulder. “That little speech was for you.”
“I know. Good job, by the way. Not the pointed content. The delivery.”
Fran’s mother speaks next, followed by several other family members. Each tell Ava how much they love and admire her, adding in their own brand of marriage advice and well wishes.
When brunch ends and everyone drifts away from the patio, Ava elbows me. “Someone hopes to catch you on your way out.”
Leo’s waiting at the gate, leaning against the fence.
“Oh man,” Emma says. “I hope you don’t have some sort of love triangle going on here. Not my favorite trope. But if you do, know I’m firmly on Team Will.”
I roll my eyes and stand. “I better see what he wants. I’ll catch up to you ladies in a while.”
“Have fun.”
“Right.”
Leo flashes the charming dimpled grin that used to make my knees weak. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” I grip my fingers together behind my back, suddenly tired. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
Dimples deepening, he runs a hand through his tousled blond hair again. “I told you I wanted to see you.”
“Kind of a long drive.”
“Not that long. But that might be because I slept most of the way.” He shrugs. “Can we go somewhere to talk? Maybe take a walk?”
I hesitate but agree to a short loop up the hill.
As we stroll down the sidewalk, sunlight filters through the trees and houses, kids speed by on bikes, and a light breeze tickles my face and arms. “It’s the perfect day for a wedding.”
We engage in mindless small talk until we pass Firefly Park, a tiny green area hosting well-manicured trees. Teenagers lounge in hammocks, and their laughter floats our way. One of them even strums a guitar.
The serene morning mocks my mental turmoil.
I clear my throat. “Leo, what are you doing here? You’ve been calling and texting all weekend. You wanted to see me, and now we’re face-to-face. What is it you want?”
The wind rustles his blond hair, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. I guess I–I miss you, Morgs.”
I sidestep an abandoned scooter. “You miss me?”
He puts that grin back on his face, his dimples folding into his cheeks. “Well, yeah. I mean, it hasn’t been the same without you this summer.”
My breath catches in my throat. Part of me has missed him too. We’d been so close, once upon a time. But then he shattered my heart. “I don’t know what to do with that right now.”
“You don’t have to do anything with it right now. Just think about it.”
As I struggle with my conflicting feelings and what to say next, my phone chirps. My shoulders relax. “Ava’s asking me to come back to start work on our hair and nails.”
He frowns. “It’s hours until the wedding.”
“I’m learning wedding prep is no joke.” I dim the screen and take a step away. “I should go.”
His frown deepens. We’ve barely had a chance to talk, and I know these few words have not satisfied everything he has to say. “Want me to walk you back?”
“That’s okay. I need to think.”
“Okay, but text me if you have more time this afternoon. I’m around.”
“I will.” But deep down, I know I won’t.
My mind spins with jumbled thoughts. I point my feet back down the hill toward the rental house. Memories play, and none involve Leo. For once, I’m not replaying all our good times. Instead, the past two days warm me.
Will and our chance meeting at the gas station. Our shared secret. Our mutual hatred of Fran. Our laughter when he toppled off his paddleboard and the electric moment that followed. And our fantastic kiss in the jewelry store. No doubt something’s there. Or there was. Before I sabotaged it.
I’ve been keeping him at a distance because I feared he’d be like Leo and every other immature boy I know. But he’s not. He’s not pushy. He’s been helping me. Encouraging me.
I’m the worst. At the house, I stomp onto the porch steps and wrench the door open. I sink onto the couch and drop my head into my hands.
I like him. I like Will.
There. I admit it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step. Or so I’ve heard.
And I do have a problem.
I like a boy I just met, and tomorrow, we’re both going home to different cities.
It might be nothing. But what if it’s something?
And thanks to my stupid no-dating-until-college rule and Leo’s sudden appearance, I may have ruined everything before it began. Will probably thinks we’re off making out somewhere.
I huff a sigh that turns into a growl, flop back on the couch, and count the ceiling beams. This is ridiculous. I’ve known him for less than forty-eight hours! You can’t like someone in that amount of time. What about the whole friends-first thing?
“Um, you okay?”
I startle and lift my head. Ava is standing at the island, partially hidden from view, steeping a mug of tea. I lie back down. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see you.”
“Clearly.” She’s smirking. “So—How’d it go?”
I groan again. “Ava, I’m an idiot.”
She chuckles, not bothering to disagree. “What are you going to do about it?”
I don’t know. And I’m saved from responding when the rest of the bridesmaids thunder downstairs.
“Time for nails!” Tonya plops a basket onto the coffee table.
Ava winks over her mug. This conversation isn’t over.