22. Ariel Cambridge
Chapter twenty-two
Ariel Cambridge
Lightning flashes through the window, making me jump.
Sutton shoots me a sympathetic look. I muster up a smile in response.
I don’t do great with storms. Last year, I hydroplaned while driving at night through the rain.
I wasn’t injured, but my car had to be pulled out of a ditch on the side of the highway.
Since then, storms freak me out, and I avoid driving in the rain at all costs.
“It’s getting pretty bad out there,” Sutton comments, glancing over her shoulder at the sheets of rain pelting the window.
After dinner, we all convened in the living room, swapping memories and stories.
Shaw and Sutton shared some antics that the rookies on his team have gotten into lately.
Brock even shared a couple of his craziest client stories, which had us all doubled over, laughing.
He’s loosened up the longer he’s been here.
It’s good for him. I think it’s good for everyone–myself included.
Mrs. Jones comes into the living room with a tray of hot cocoa. I smile in spite of the anxiety building in my chest. All of us here in this house, plus hot cocoa, reminds me of being in high school. The nostalgia is as cozy as the blanket I’m under.
“I checked the weather, and I don’t think it would be good for either of you two to leave tonight,” Mrs. Jones says as she hands me a mug, then Brock one. He’s sprawled out on the floor across from me. I spy a grimace flash across his expression.
“It’s just a little rain,” Brock says.
Mrs. Jones gives him a scolding look. “It’s severe thunderstorms with high winds.
I saw on Facebook that there’s already limbs down on our road.
You’re staying here tonight, young man. There’s clothes in your bedroom.
” She looks at me. “And I’m sure Sutton has plenty of clothes for you to borrow. You can stay in the guest room.”
I give her a grateful smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
She passes out the rest of the mugs, but I notice she didn’t make any for herself or Mr. Jones.
“We’re headed to bed. Y’all stay up as long as you like. I’m sure you have plenty to catch up on,” Mrs. Jones says. “I’ll see all of you in the morning for breakfast.”
She kisses the top of all of our heads, then takes Mr. Jones’ hand and heads to their room.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she conjured up the weather herself to get us to stay here,” Brock grumbles.
Sutton throws a pillow at his head.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Quit being such a sourpuss. It’s good that you’re stuck here. You need a break from work.”
If Sutton thinks staying the night here is going to keep Brock from working, she’s sorely mistaken. The man would find a way to work while stranded on a deserted island.
“Sourpuss? What are you, eighty?”
She goes to throw another pillow, but Shaw takes it from her. Sutton’s glare turns on him.
“Take it easy on him, Love,” he says softly.
“Yeah, take it easy ,” Brock echoes, because he’s a man with a death wish.
“I only told her that so she can conserve her ammo. If she runs out of pillows, she’s liable to go for sharp objects next. I’d rather not have to clean blood out of your mom’s carpet,” Shaw says, shooting him a hard look.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Brock mumbles.
I shake my head. All the nostalgia from before is still present, but less cozy and more stabby.
Even before Brock got too busy for all of us, we argued all the time.
I think all of us have teamed up against each other at some point.
Though if I recall correctly, Shaw tended to side with Brock or Sutton, never me.
I smile at the thought of his dedication to her going that far back.
“I don’t know how we all managed to survive each other back in high school,” I say, trying to break the tension.
“Me either,” Shaw agrees with a laugh.
Sutton still looks angry. Shaw pulls her into his side and murmurs something in her ear.
She visibly relaxes at his words. Jealousy stabs me in the chest. I wish I had someone who could do that for me.
Especially right now, when each flash of lightning sets me on edge.
I glance at Brock. There’s a meaningful look in his eyes, but he has no way of knowing about the accident.
I only told Sutton and my parents. Can he see my envy?
I look away, not liking the feeling of being on display.
We sip our hot cocoa in awkward silence.
None of us are shy, so it doesn’t make any sense.
I can’t come up with anything to say. I’m too scared of blurting out the fact that I’ve spent the past few weeks seeing Brock more than Sutton has in the last year.
Guilt is eating away at me like the caterpillars Mrs. Jones says are ravaging her eggplants.
“How about a game?” Shaw asks after a few minutes of painful silence.
“Sounds fun,” I immediately agree, even though putting Sutton and Brock in a game against each other sounds like a recipe for disaster. I’d rather them yell at each other than glare in silence.
“Sure,” Sutton says at the same time Brock says, “If I have no choice.”
That earns him a glare from me this time.
“Why don’t we go look through the family game closet?” Shaw squeezes Sutton’s shoulder.
She nods and he pulls her up off the couch. They disappear down the hall. Once they’re gone, I look over at Brock.
“Would it kill you to at least pretend to be happy to be here?” I hiss.
“It was hard enough to make time to come here. I should be catching up on work right now, not playing board games with a sister who hates me.”
I grab the pillow beside me and throw it at him. Unfortunately, he catches it and drops it beside him next to the one Sutton threw.
“Your sister doesn’t hate you, but if she did, acting like a bratty toddler wouldn’t help your case.”
He rakes a hand through his hair. “It just threw me off, okay? I thought I’d survived the night. I was counting on going home soon.”
“Yes, you’re a real survivor.” I roll my eyes. “Dinner and hot cocoa with a family who loves you. How difficult.”
He clenches his jaw.
I lean forward in my seat. “Can you not see how much you’ve changed? Family used to be everything to you.”
His dark eyes flash like the lightning outside.
“Family is everything to me!” His whisper is more aggressive than it would be if he yelled. “I’m doing this for them.”
“Have you ever stopped to ask yourself if this is what they wanted? Did they ask this of you?” I’m about to continue when I hear Sutton giggling.
I look over my shoulder and see her leaning against Shaw. She’s looking up at him with a telltale blush on her cheeks. Her blonde hair is mussed, as is his hair.
“Were you seriously making out that whole time?” Brock asks, his tone incredulous. “Did you even get a game to play?”
“We weren’t making out, were y’all?” Sutton asks, clearly still dazed from kissing Shaw.
My face flames. Brock gives his twin a flat look.
“Yes, Ariel and I were passionately making out while across the room from each other.” His tone is dry, but my cheeks still heat at the implication.
Shaw tosses a deck of cards to Brock. “It took us a while to find what we were looking for,” he says with a smirk.
“My parents have probably twenty decks of cards.” Brock throws the box on the coffee table like it’s covered in germs. “Could you please not make out while we’re under the same roof? She’s my sister .”
Shaw shrugs. “She’s my wife.”
Sutton giggles as they fall back onto the couch together. I shake my head, but I can’t help but smile. It’s nice to see my best friend so happy. While I might be unbearably jealous, I’m still overjoyed that she’s living out her dreams.
“I can’t believe I’m stuck here with you two,” Brock grouses.
“Well, believe it, because you are.” Shaw grins. “Now, who’s ready to get beat at rummy?”