4. Bridger
4
brIDGER
S aturday morning comes way too fast. My younger sister arrived in the middle of the night which led to a midnight snack of nachos and a frozen pizza. Something was off with her but I didn’t pry. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
That didn’t stop us from catching up, though, and by the time I’d finally gone to sleep, I’d been wired, my fingers itching to play. But I’d refrained, instead falling into a fitful sleep and waking up feeling worse than if I’d just stayed up all night.
Dragging myself into the kitchen, I start the coffee pot and note that Saige’s car isn’t in the driveway. It hadn’t been there last night when Lettie had gotten here either.
Did she spend the night with someone?
Jealously curls in my gut at the thought of her tangled up with someone else. It’s irrational, but I can’t help it. With all that pent-up attitude, she’s gotta be wild in bed.
And I want to be the one who brings it out in her.
“Are you making coffee?” Lettie mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she shuffles into the kitchen, her black hair tied up on the top of her head.
“It’s almost done.”
“Thank God,” she breathes, dropping onto a stool and resting her chin on the palm of her hand.
“Are you all right?”
“Not without coffee.”
Rolling my eyes, I wait for the pot to finish then fill a mug and slide it across the counter to her before handing her the creamer.
“How about now?” I ask, pouring the creamer into my own cup when she passes it back.
“Now what?”
“Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad. I just got here after seeing the girls from college, and I’m excited to spend time with you now that you’re not on the road.”
“That’s not it,” I press, apparently throwing out the I’ll wait for her to tell me plan. “Corbin was in Charleston too; did you guys meet up?”
Her eyes dart to the left before focusing back on me, as she lifts her mug to her lips without speaking.
Uh-oh.
“You know he lives next door, right?” I hedge and she nods.
“It’ll be fine.”
“Are you gonna tell me what happened?”
“It’s between him and me. Anyway, it doesn’t matter—he’s your best friend and in the band and all that.”
“And none of that matters if he hurt you.”
“I’m a big girl, Bridge.”
I stare at her, realizing she’s no longer the little girl that begged me to take her training wheels off before she was ready. The one who skinned her knee and cried before I picked her up and wiped her tears.
“There’s a little thing in town today, food trucks and stuff near the beach. Wanna go?”
“Sure.” She sighs, her shoulders sagging with relief as she motions toward the coffee pot. “Just put that whole thing in a to-go mug.”
“You got it.”
The sun is warm as we walk down the street, busy with tourists and locals all mingling together. Opting for iced coffees and donuts, we join the crowd, Lettie telling me about seeing her college roommates and spending time in Charleston. It’s been a few years since they graduated, and I’m happy they were able to make a long weekend work with their schedules.
She doesn’t mention Corbin again so neither do I, the two of us meandering as we joke and laugh about everything and nothing.
Until I see her.
And she’s definitely not alone. It’s just not who I expect.
“Hey, Saige, Haven, how are you ladies this morning?” I ask, infusing as much cheer into my tone as I can.
“Hi Bridger!” Haven practically yells and I chuckle.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes! We’re getting slushies!”
Lettie smacks my arm with the back of her hand. “How come we’re not getting slushies?”
Her eyes are twinkling as they meet mine, and I can feel my cheeks heat because she knows something’s up even if she doesn’t know what.
Clearing my throat, I turn back to Saige and Haven and note the fuck off expression Saige is trying to hide behind a mask of indifference.
Here we go…
“Lettie, this is Saige and her niece, Haven. Ladies, this is my sister, Lettie.”
“She’s so pretty,” Haven stage-whispers to her aunt who, begrudgingly it seems, cracks a smile.
“She is,” Saige confirms, “but so are you.” She boops the girl on the nose, and Lettie shoots me a glance, her eyebrows in her hairline before smiling brightly and reaching out a hand.
“It’s really nice to meet you,” my sister says, as Saige returns the shake, the two women engaged in some kind of silent throwdown that’s starting to make me sweat.
“You too, and I’m sure your brother has told you only the best things about living next to me,” Saige says with a faux sweetness that makes my sister snort.
“Only that you’re?—”
“Oh my gosh, B, hi!” Amber says as she cuts my sister off and wraps me in a hug as I awkwardly pat her back. I’ve seen her around, usually with Landon or Declan, but not enough for hugging.
Or nicknames.
“Hey, Amber, yeah,” I start as I try to extract myself from her grip. “It’s nice to see you.”
“The girls and I just loved seein’ you play. Your band is so good,” she purrs, and I watch as Saige’s expression turns cold while my sister’s scrunches up in disgust.
Please let me make it out alive.
“Well, we won’t keep you. Lettie, it was nice to meet you,” Saige says as she takes Haven’s hand to leave.
“Bye!” The young girl smiles and waves.
“We’ll catch up,” I say, but Saige’s back is already to me. I can feel my sister’s irritation, and Amber cannot take a hint.
“Amber, it was really nice to see you. Enjoy your weekend.” She pouts as I grab Lettie’s elbow and steer her farther down the sidewalk. “Thanks for the help,” I hiss, releasing her as my eyes scan the crowd for Saige.
“Seriously? You didn’t want that.”
“Pretty sure I did. Did you see how pissed Saige was?”
“I did.” I glare at my sister. “But I would have said something like back off, ho to your friend Amber, and I know that’s frowned upon with your elite social status.”
“She’s not my friend and what,” I growl, grabbing her elbow and guiding us out of the line of traffic, “ elite social status? Really?”
“Sorry, I might be projecting, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are a celebrity in your own right. And me calling that girl a ho is probably not what you need.”
“You owe me a slushie.”
“Fine.”
“And tacos.”
“Why?” She grins but it’s a formality—she knows why.
“Because you let Saige walk away and now she’s pissed again.”
“Is she ever not pissed at you?”
“It’s debatable, but I really felt like I was making progress before that”—I hitch my thumb over my shoulder—“happened.”
“Guess you’ll just have to try harder.”
Story of my damn life.