14
Sunday, June 1st
Lexi
The menu for Fortress, my stepdad’s newest food endeavor, is a clunky, huge thing I can barely hold in front of my face. Normally, it’d be something I might complain about, but today, I’m thankful for the shield.
My mom sits across from me in a pair of tan linen pants and a white button-down shirt, her hair pulled up in a half-up, half-down do made fancier by a twist and braid of the hair by her face. I’ve always thought she’s one of the most naturally beautiful women I’ve ever seen, but today, she looks particularly content.
And I know, deep down, it’s because I reached out and asked her to meet me for lunch. She already had plans with Georgia and her girls, but not wanting to miss the opportunity for some face time with her daughter, she invited me to join. She never pushes to see me or makes me feel bad for not getting together more, which I appreciate more than I can say. But seeing her heart in her eyes today, I know I need to make a bigger effort.
As for the menu, it makes everything I did with Blake last night feel just the tiniest bit less exposed. Georgia, Julia, and Evie are supposed to meet us here soon, but their driver hit traffic coming back from the Hamptons. So, right now, it’s only my mom and me, and for some reason, that makes me feel anxious to take advantage.
“I think I’m going to try the harvest salad,” my mom remarks, studying the menu herself as though she didn’t help my dad create it. “I’m in the mood for strawberries. What are you thinking, Lex?”
I’m thinking about the thing I always think about these days, much to my chagrin— Blake Boden . Like it or not, memories of him fester on my brain’s every available surface, waiting to be addressed. Tackling that elephant seems a little traumatic, of course, so instead, I settle for a broad question that feels like it at least scratches in the vicinity of the itch.
“When you and Dad first started dating, were you sure you wanted to be with him, or were you confused?”
“You know, Lex, I don’t think that’s on the menu.” I roll my eyes, and she laughs. “Sorry. You just caught me off guard with that one.” She hums. “Well, let’s see. I’d like to say I was confident, but if I’m honest, I was definitely scared. I had you, of course, and you were the light of my life. The last relationship I’d tried to make work ended in disaster, and your uncles were operating on a pretty hair trigger when it came to new men. I knew Wes was special, but I didn’t know if it was going to work.” She shrugs. “Is that the kind of answer you were looking for?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “To be honest, I’m not sure what I’m looking for. I was just…curious.”
My mom nods but is careful not to study me too closely. She’s one of the only people who truly understands and respects how uncomfortable it makes me. “That’s fair. From my own experience, relationships are always complicated. There are ups and downs and obstacles and unknowns. But when they’re right, they always seem to sort themselves out. Look at me and Georgia and Cassie and all your uncles. Everyone has their moment if you wait long enough.”
“I don’t know if I’m… moment material ,” I admit. “I want to be, but I just… Some things are better off locked in my head.”
“There’s no timeline on figuring it out, you know?” she comforts. “One day, you’ll know for sure what’s right for you, and when you do, your father and your brother and I—we’ll all be there to support you.”
I swallow hard, warring with myself over sharing something about Blake or not. Deep down, I know I should, but I just can’t bear the thought of exposing myself like that. I don’t like topics I haven’t mastered. I don’t like wondering how I can learn everything I need to quickly, and I don’t like feeling out of control.
What if I’m getting it all wrong?
I can’t imagine what that would mean for the part of my personality that hinges on getting everything right.
“Thanks,” I say, settling for a simple show of gratitude. My mom’s smile is warm and understanding, and if possible, it makes me feel even worse.
Maybe I can start off by sharing Blake’s pursuit? Maybe I can tell her how long he’s been—
“Hello, hello!” Georgia greets hurriedly, hustling both Julia and Evie around the table to my side to take the seats next to me. “Soooo sorry we’re late.”
“Hey, Lex,” Julia says excitedly, leaning in for a side hug before sitting down. “Never expected to see you here!”
“Yeah. I’m trying to expand my horizons a little. My brother seems to think I’m going to spend all my time in the lab until rigor mortis sets in. I told him I do other things, but he didn’t seem to believe me.”
Julia laughs, and I can read the unspoken words about Double C as they cross her face as though they’re a flashing neon sign. If he only knew . “Hey, I’ll take it. I always love a chance to hang out with you, expected or not.”
Evie doesn’t say anything, focused instead on the menu in front of her, her eyes glazed with distant thoughts. It’s weird, given how effervescent she normally is, so while my mom and Georgia gab and catch up with each other, I lean toward Julia and raise an eyebrow. “What’s with your sister? Is she in mourning or something? She’s never this quiet.”
Julia laughs. “She has her earbuds in, listening to a romantasy audiobook Cassie gave her at dinner last week. I think it’s a retelling of Hades and Persephone or something with a parallel universe and monsters. She’s transfixed.”
Evie Brooks isn’t the first daughter in our group to be folded into the romance genre by Cassie Kelly herself without their mother’s knowledge. In fact, as the eldest of the group, I was first.
When I was ten and a half, Cassie gave me my first young adult romance to get me addicted. For the past few years, I’ve been preoccupied with other things, but once upon a time, Cassie and I had quite the interesting dealer/junkie relationship with romance novels.
Truth be told, she’s a woman full of interesting secrets.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me slightly, so I lean back into my seat and pull it out as surreptitiously as possible. I already had one text exchange with Ginger when I first got here with my mom, asking if I could help her work out some kinks on her project in the lab tonight, and put simply, I’m not normally this popular of a person.
Blake Boden: I’ve been thinking about last night all morning. What about you?
An uncharacteristic blush steals across my cheeks as I remember how it felt to finish with his fingers inside me. It was jarring. Imprinting. Impactful. It was unlike anything I’ve ever had with another person before, and yet somehow, the two of us went back to conversing and having dinner together without prejudice or discomfort. Somehow, even knowing what we’d just done, I was at ease.
“Who is it?” Julia asks, obviously noticing how weird I’m acting.
“Just Connor,” I lie, knowing the familiar name will at least buy me one or two casual dismissals before I’ll have to explain further.
She nods. “Oh, okay.”
I type out a quick message I’m hoping will keep him occupied long enough to delay needing to answer again until after this lunch is done.
Me: Yes, of course. It’s hard not to. I’m curious what you’ve got in mind to happen next, but don’t tell me now. I want you to really think about it.
I tuck my phone away, only for it to buzz again immediately.
Blake Boden: Oh, I’ve thought about it already. In great detail. Where do you think the thoughts about last night led this morning?
Obviously, I’m far too unpracticed with social games to be playing them. Desperate now that my mom, Georgia, Evie, and Julia are all engaged and paying attention to one another, I resort back to blunt truth.
Me: That all sounds nice, but I need to not talk to you right now. I’m at lunch with people, and I don’t have the experience I’d need to hear about your plans and keep a poker face.
Blake Boden: Okay, no worries. Keeping it a surprise is better anyway.
His message urges a smile to my lips that I can’t control. It takes me a good five seconds to swipe the damn thing off my face.
Me: I’ll be in the lab later if you want to come find me.
Blake Boden: I wouldn’t miss the chance. Later, Lex.
Me: Bye, Blake.
Satisfied that I’ve curbed the explosion for now, I set my phone on the table facedown and work myself back into engaging in the lunchtime conversation.
I’m an outsider, as usual, but for the first time in a long time, I lean into the feeling of being present anyway.
Something inside me is shifting—but the jury’s still out on whether it’s for the good.