Bear #2
Later that evening, we’re all gathered around a giant table at the Mexican place right off campus, the ones with margaritas the size of your head and the best damn guacamole money can buy.
When we order our second round, Clayton complains that he’s the only one other than our nephews who can’t drink. Mom placates him with a pat on the head, but when she turns to continue telling her story, Erin slides her margarita over to Clayton so he can get a sip.
He grimaces, face contorting like he just bit into a lemon. “Ugh, why do you guys even like this stuff?”
“Just wait, baby brother,” I tell him, swiping a chip through the guac and popping it into my mouth. “When you get to college, you’ll not only be subjected to shitty tequila, but also the questionable lager they serve up for nickel beer at the college bars.”
“Or,” Erin says, holding up a finger. “You could be a trendsetter and not drink at all.”
“Yeah, right,” Clayton says. “And be a loser?”
“I didn’t drink for a while,” she tells him.
“Really?”
She nods. “I just…”
Her words falter a little, her eyes flicking to mine, because I know exactly why she stopped drinking. I reach under the table and squeeze her knee, reassuring her.
“I just got tired of it, you know? What’s fun about blacking out and not remembering what you did the night before?
Or waking up feeling sick and shitty for a whole day?
” Erin shakes her head. “I took a break, and even now, I drink, but not to get wasted. I prefer to enjoy what I’m drinking and take it slow. ”
My little brother frowns, nodding. “I definitely don’t want to feel shitty all day.”
“Language,” Mom chimes in even though she’s locked into her own conversation. She shares a smile with Clayton before she goes back to talking to Janae.
“What if I have a football game the next day? Or practice?”
“Exactly,” I say. “Maybe you try doing your first year sober, see what you think of it.”
He nods, and already I can see the wheels turning in his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I just might.”
Just then, Camron pops out of his seat and tugs on Erin’s dress. “Miss Erin, will you come to the bubble gum machine with me?” He holds up a shiny quarter. “Dad gave me a quarter to get some!”
Erin smiles, folding her napkin and setting it on the table before she stands. “I’d be delighted to.” Then, she pauses, looking at Cole. “You want to come, too?”
He shrugs, but I can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t want to be left out.
“I saw a claw machine over there,” Erin says. “Bet we can win one of those stuffed cars. Wanna try?”
Cole smiles, and then slides out of his chair and follows Erin and Camron over to the toy machines by the hostess stand.
The minute they’re gone, all eyes are on me.
I blink. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”
“More like you’ve got a giant black stamp mark on your forehead that reads idiot,” Carleton says, which makes Janae chuckle.
I narrow my eyes. “Okay?”
“Why haven’t you married that girl yet?” Clayton asks, and the blood drains from my face as I look at Erin over his shoulder.
“Who, Erin? We’re just—”
“Friends?” Mom says on a laugh. “Sure. And I’m sober.”
The words are punctuated with a hiccup that makes everyone chuckle.
I shake my head, running a hand over my fade as I sit back in my chair. “It’s complicated, guys. And you’re going to make it more so if you start acting weird, so don’t.”
“Well, my advice, son?” Mom says, leaning over the table to tap my hand. “Uncomplicate it. Tell her how you feel. The way she’s been looking at you all day, my gut tells me your confession won’t be one-sided.”
I smile, but my stomach sinks at everything I can’t tell them. To them, it’s simple. Erin and I are young and attracted to each other, end of story.
But we have history.
Hell, we just started being cordial with each other again.
I know I have to tread lightly, or I won’t just blow my chance with her romantically, but I’ll lose her altogether.
My throat dries at the thought.
There’s a sudden squeal from the hostess stand, and we all turn just in time to see Camron reach into the claw machine and pull out a stuffed car.
He hoists it over his head victoriously and sprints toward us while Erin and Cole stay back.
Erin holds up her hand, and Cole high-fives it, hanging his head shyly afterward.
But he’s wearing a smile.
And when Erin lifts her eyes to mine, she’s wearing one, too.
I hold her gaze the whole way as she and Cole walk back over to the table, her cheeks reddening more and more. And when she sits down next to me, a chip hits me in the neck from the other side.
I turn and find Clayton making big, expressive, don’t be an idiot eyes at me.
Trust me, little brother.
I’m trying not to.
***
After dinner, I drop the family back off at their hotel, giving each of them a big hug. They fly out early tomorrow morning, but I’ll see them all again soon for graduation.
“Take care of my boy,” Mom tells Erin when they hug.
“I think it’s him who takes care of me,” she answers.
“As he should.”
I take Erin home next, both of us silent the car ride to the condo she’s sharing with Ashlei and Jess downtown. It isn’t until I park in the twenty-minute parking in front of the building and put the truck in park that I realize she’s been crying.
She thinks she’s hiding it from me, the subtle swipe of her thumb across her cheekbone to catch the lone tear, but I see the remnants of it shining in the streetlight when I round the truck and open her door for her.
We walk up to the building in silence, stopping just outside the door.
She looks up at me with a pitiful smile.
And I just pull her into my chest.
Everything in her releases once she’s in my arms, a heavy sigh and shake of her head letting go of the tension she’s been holding. I just grip her tighter, running my hand through her hair.
“I know you’re not okay,” I say softly. “And we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But thank you for coming today, for putting up with my family,” I add with a chuckle. “I hope it helped.”
Erin pulls back, and though I long for her warmth as soon as it’s gone, I step back, too, giving her space.
“It did, it really did. Your family…” She smiles, shaking her head. “They’re wonderful.”
“It hasn’t always been this way.”
“That makes it even more special.”
I smile. “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Another quiet pause falls over us, and I’m just about to wish her goodnight when she rolls her lips together, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at my truck instead of at me when she asks, “Bear, am I desirable?”
Fuuuuuck me.
The ability to inhale or exhale or do anything at all is stolen with her question, my chest burning with the need to reach for her, pull her into me, and show her just how desirable she is.
If I had my chance to have a real night with her, not like the one we had where we were both too drunk to remember, but a real night, she’d never even think of asking that question.
She wouldn’t have to.
She’d already know.
My throat is tight, nostrils flaring when I finally blow out a breath, and I slide my hands into my pockets to keep myself from reaching for her. “Erin, why would you even ask that?”
I mean for it to come off as are you fucking kidding me? Obviously, you are and how do you not already know that? But the way her bottom lip quivers, the way she tucks her chin and shakes her head before lifting her eyes to mine again and forcing a smile, I know I’ve said something wrong.
“No reason,” she whispers. “It was silly to even ask.”
“Erin…” I try, but she sniffs, leaning in to give me such a quick hug I don’t even get my hands out of my pockets to hug her back.
“Goodnight, Bear.”
And before I have the chance to get to the bottom of anything, she’s gone.
Still, I stand there, and I watch her wave at the front desk clerk of the lobby, watch her disappear into the elevator, watch the doors shut and block my view of her sad, broken face.
And I know in my gut the person responsible.
Gavin.
I may not know much past that, but there’s one thing I know for sure.
The sonofabitch is lucky I don’t know where he lives.