Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Brendan
Through most of dinner, Eli and I shovel food in our mouths to avoid conversation. Scarlett tries to fill the silence by talking about her day at the cafe and asking if we want seconds.
It’s not until she brings out the famous triple-chocolate brownies that Eli finally looks between us.
“So, how did this happen?” he asks as Scarlett drizzles hot caramel sauce over the top.
“How did what happen?” she asks, handing him a brownie.
“This.” He waves his fork between us.
Scarlett lifts a shoulder vaguely. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” He leaves his brownie untouched, watching his sister over his water glass. “Because about a month ago, you told me dating was the last thing on your mind, with everything going on with Dad.”
Scarlett frowns, like she’s trying to remember. “Did I say that?”
“Sure did.” Eli takes a sip of water.
I get the sense he’s trying to poke holes in our story just to irritate me.
She slides a brownie toward me, still avoiding her brother’s gaze. “Well, people can change their minds, Eli. It’s not like anyone plans to fall in love.”
Eli chews slowly. “So who asked who out first?”
“I did,” we both say simultaneously.
My eyes snap to hers, and panic flashes across her face at our obvious blunder.
Eli leans back, one side of his mouth tugging up smugly. “Interesting answer. Which is it?”
“Well.” Scarlett clears her throat, tilting her head. “Technically, I asked if he wanted to hang out, but then he made it clear it was a date, so then he asked me out for real. Right?”
She looks to me for help.
“Uh, yeah,” I mumble around a mouthful of brownie, even though I have no idea what I’m agreeing to. “But you initiated the conversation, so I think you asked me…technically.”
Eli’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline. “Huh?”
“The point is, we’re together now,” Scarlett says firmly, digging into her brownie like chocolate will solve everything.
“Well, you’d better get your story straight for that fancy wedding,” Eli says. “Because that was confusing.”
She glares at him for a second before getting up from the table, grabbing our plates and escaping to the kitchen.
“Hey, I wasn’t finished yet—” I protest, but she’s already gone. “Never mind.”
Eli looks like he actually feels sorry that I lost my brownie. “Don’t take it personally, dude. You know how she gets when she’s embarrassed.”
The water starts running in the kitchen. “You think she’s embarrassed?”
He nods. “People are going to ask you at the wedding how you got together. Maybe only one of you should tell it. And add some actual romance next time?”
That’s when I realize he’s offering advice. Because our story was terrible.
“She hates being caught off guard, remember?”
“You’re right. I forgot about that.” Finally, advice I can actually use.
Eli takes off his trucker cap, runs a hand through his hair, then gets a little smirk. “Remember that night we tried to teach Scarlett to drive a stick shift? She was mortified that night too.”
“Back in high school?” I lean back in my chair. “Your truck never recovered.”
Eli leans his elbows on the table. “She killed the engine like fifteen times.”
I smirk. “Worst driver in the history of driving.”
“Still is.” Eli glances toward the kitchen to make sure Scarlett isn’t coming back. “And then she got so mad she threw the keys at my head.”
We both crack up then, trying to keep it down so she doesn’t hear.
I point at Eli. “You made me push that truck down Harrison’s Hill because she stalled it so many times that the battery died.”
Now we’re both laughing so hard we can hardly catch our breath.
“She kept insisting the truck was broken,” Eli says, wiping his eyes, “that it wasn’t her driving. She kept saying—” He pitches his voice higher, mimicking his sister, “’This clutch is defective! No one could drive this piece of junk!’”
Now I’m laughing so hard I can barely stay upright.
“It was worth it though,” I add. “Just to see her face when she finally got it moving without stalling.”
Scarlett suddenly appears, frowning at us like we’ve lost our minds.
She sets her hands on her hips. “What are you two laughing about?”
“Nothing,” we say in unison, then crack up again.
For a moment, it feels like we’re seventeen again, and the biggest problem in our lives was whether someone could master a manual transmission.
“Are you talking about me?” she asks, her gaze narrowing.
“Why would we do that?” Eli says. “Just sharing Mona stories.”
“Okay, you morons, you’re not bringing up when I learned to drive stick, are you?” When her brother bursts out laughing, she throws a dish towel at his head.
“Some things never change,” Eli says with a smirk. “First you throw keys at me, and now dish towels.”
“Those were good times,” I sigh. Something passes between Eli and me when I say it—years of history in a look.
We took completely different roads after high school. I left for the Marines—a way to prove I was more than just my uncle’s nephew. Eli stayed in Sully’s Beach, working the coffee shop counter alongside his parents and sister, watching his friends leave while he held down the fort.
When I came back, we were strangers with familiar faces.
I’d like to say it was just time and distance that changed us.
But that’s not the truth. While I was deployed, Eli was grinding hard, launching one business idea after another, putting everything he had into each one—a landscaping company that never got off the ground, an online resale business that went under after six months, a food delivery app that just couldn’t compete against the big ones—each one failing a little more publicly than the last in a town small enough that everyone noticed.
People started to make judgments. Failure to launch is what they called it.
And then I walked back into Sully’s Beach, and within a short time I landed a coaching position with the Crushers. Because my uncle owned the team.
I’ve never said that out loud, but I don’t have to. Eli said it for me the night things finally boiled over between us.
I worked hard for this job, learning everything I could about conditioning and coaching.
But I didn’t spend decades working my way up to my new coaching position.
My uncle fast-tracked it. And no amount of hard work changes the fact that Eli never got an opportunity like that.
He never had an uncle with connections, never had anyone hand him the chance of a lifetime.
Well, except once.
I tried to be that opportunity for him once and pulled strings I probably shouldn’t have pulled. Nobody from his family knows I did it, including Scarlett. It was between Eli and me, and as far as I’m concerned, it stays that way.
But when it failed, it burned a bridge between us that I don’t think we can ever get back, no matter how much Scarlett hopes for the best.
Eli’s smile fades as he looks at his plate. “We were just kids back then.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, carefully. “We’ve grown up now, I hope.”
“Some people still haven’t improved their driving skills, though,” Eli adds with a teasing glance at his sister.
“Okay, enough with my driving.” But the smile on her face tells me she’s taking this good-naturedly.
I rise from the table. “I should probably go. Early practice tomorrow.”
Scarlett walks me out, unusually quiet until we reach my car. “I don’t know what happened in there, but thank you,” she says, looking up at me with those brown eyes that make me crazy.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know the details.”
“You’re probably right.” She lays her hand on my arm, her touch making my pulse speed up. As disappointing as it was to discover this wasn’t a date, this moment might entirely make up for it.
“I appreciate you trying with Eli tonight. It means a lot. Now it’s up to me to wow your family with what a good fake girlfriend I can be.”
“You already have. You survived the bridesmaid fitting, didn’t you?”
“I came out mostly unscathed,” she says. “But the best is yet to come.”
I tilt my head. “Really?”
She pokes my arm lightly. “You doubt me?”
“I’m just saying, you’re awfully confident for someone who can’t even get our origin story straight.”
“Hey! That wasn’t entirely my fault,” she protests, but her lips curve into that smile I love. “Just you wait. I’m going to be the best wedding date you’ve ever had.”
“Well, you’re definitely the only wedding date I’ve ever had.”
“Even better. No competition.” She grins. “I’m going to knock your socks off, Brendan Marco.”
Looking at her standing in the moonlight, I realize she already has.