Wedding #3
The offer is kind and unexpected. Something that usually stays cold and tight in my chest unfurls, and I find myself just staring at him stupidly. “I’ll think about it,” I offer finally. I’m not sure I would move. Washington is where I’m from, and Seattle is where I’ve made my home.
But do I really have anything out there? Except for my best friend and boyfriend, I could live anywhere.
If he won’t leave, then I certainly won’t. And I’m not sure Larkin has any desire to live in the Midwest.
“And go get food,” Wren urges. “Otherwise you’re insulting Jed, who spent an actual month planning the grazing tables.”
I lift my hands in surrender and walk away, heading toward the grazing tables in the far corner.
As usual, Jed has outdone himself. While it’s been years since I’ve tasted his food, I can’t help but get a plate full of the tiny sandwiches, pastries, and every other small snack that looks even remotely appetizing.
By the time I’m at a table, Larkin is apparently done being harassed and sits down beside me with a huff before sneaking out a hand to grab a mini sandwich.
“He threaten to kill you?” I ask mildly, watching the small group of kids present twirling around the dance floor. Hazel seems to gravitate towards them, and I remember belatedly that she’s apparently a camp counselor. Or was when Wren met her.
Correction—hunted her. Not that she’s complaining about it.
“Worse,” he makes a face, but then immediately makes a happily surprised one as he chews a bite. “This is so good. And I don’t even like cucumber,” he mumbles around the tiny sandwich.
“Jed’s amazing. Everything he makes is delicious.” I tilt my head at him, part of me wanting to scoot in closer to my boyfriend like so many other couples here are doing.
But PDA isn’t something I usually initiate beyond holding his hand out in public.
Yet somehow, Larkin must sense what I want.
He pulls me in beside him with an arm hooked around my waist. “Is that the cannibal? Because your friend threatened to kill me and let him butcher me before serving me to his girlfriend’s shitty mom. ”
I snort at that, a smile growing on my lips. I’ve heard my fair share of stories about Winnie’s mom, and from what I understand, she would absolutely deserve it. “Ex cannibal,” I correct. “But yeah. And they would, you know.”
I almost tell him right then about Wren’s suggestion.
But I let it go, instead turning to shove a small pastry between his lips before Larkin can say anything else.
“Shut up and eat the food. Otherwise we’ll look ungrateful, and Jed really might kill you.
Not me, of course. But I’d have to sacrifice you to go free. ”
Larkin rolls his eyes, but he lets me put the food in his mouth. He chews and swallows before swooping in for another chaste kiss, his arm tight around me like he’s holding me here, in case I might float away.
With my eyes half-lidded, all I can see is the flash of street-lights at set intervals. They flicker against my eyelids, momentarily blinding me, until I close my eyes completely with a sigh.
“Wren told me I should move back. Or think about it.” When my words fall into the soft, near-silence of the car, Larkin immediately reaches out to turn down the music completely.
For a few moments, he doesn’t speak. And I’m certainly not about to follow that up with something else.
“Do you want to?”
I’m a little surprised that’s the first thing he says.
My fingers tap against the cool glass I have my cheek pressed to, and I open my eyes to stare into the darkness outside. “I don’t love Seattle,” I admit quietly. “You know I met Cass years ago, when they sent me out here to live and to, you know, be locked up in the loony bin.”
He snorts at that, but I don’t need him to remind me that’s not the proper term for a mental hospital. Which is a rare point he and Esme agree on.
“But I don’t need to. I know you just came to Seattle, and you like to hunt out there. I know—”
His hand on my knee stops my words and makes me look up at him from my uncharacteristic, if short, ramble.
“You don’t need to tell me what I like, gorgeous girl,” Larkin purrs. “I asked if this is something you want to explore.”
For a few moments, I just stare at him. He glances my way occasionally, though being the relatively good driver he is, most of his attention remains on the road. Still, as safe as his driving is, I definitely prefer riding in the passenger seat to being locked in the trunk.
“Yeah,” I admit finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I mean, I don’t want to commit to anything. But I actually liked this place. And Seattle sometimes makes me feel not great.” I’m rambling again, speaking more than I usually do thanks to the uncharacteristic anxiety churning inside me.
“But I won’t do it if it means leaving you.” I pause, then add, “God, that sounded clingy.”
“It didn’t sound clingy. And it doesn’t mean leaving me.” His thumb strokes my inner thigh. “If it’s something you want to explore, then let’s explore it. Together.”
My look must be one of surprise, because it feels foreign on my face. “You mean that?”
But Larkin’s smile is bright and wide and warm.
It’s perfectly his. And he is perfectly mine.
“Yeah, Sierra. I mean it.”