Chapter 24
YOU STINK, DONNELLY!
Thane
The rising sun creeps through the edges of the blackout blinds, and I slip out of my bottom bunk, trying not to wake Sera.
My heart ached all night as I lay beneath her, listening to her cry.
Had stupid Brad not been two bunks over snoring like a bear, I would’ve done something to comfort her.
He’s in the way of everything, and I have no idea why Sera let him stay.
She’s loyal to a fault sometimes. So am I—that’s why we’re in this mess to begin with, I guess.
When I stand, I come face to face with her puffy eyes, and I gently brush her hair away from her face. That’s when I notice it: she’s still wearing my hoodie. I smile to myself, kiss two fingers, and touch them to her temple before sneaking out the door.
My morning run on the lake trail isn’t nearly as productive as I need it to be, and when I return, I still have a knot in my stomach and pent-up energy that needs to go… somewhere. I wind up the path to the lake house and spot Sera curled up in her usual hammock, reading.
I sit down on the bench across from her and untie my shoes. “Nice book. What’s the trope this time,” I ask, “friends to lovers, billionaire boss…” and for comedic effect I throw in, “alien-abduction romance?”
She laughs and closes her finger in the pages. “If you must know,” she says, sipping her fancy, sugary cup of coffee, “this one is a second chance, enemies to lovers.”
I grin and lock eyes with her. “My favorite kind.”
“Knock it off. You’ve never read any of these books. I know they’re not Tolkien or Hemingway, but they bring me joy.”
The way her eyes sparkle makes my heart stumble in its rhythm. “I can see that,” I say softly. “Joy looks good on you.”
The energy between us hums like power lines, and I want more than anything to climb in that hammock with her and spoon while she reads her romance aloud to me.
“And for the record, I read everything you post about on your bookstagram page.”
She sits up on her elbow. “You do not.”
“I do. I especially liked the Christmas one you recommended last year where they’re arrested together on Black Friday.”
Her mouth drops open.
I run a hand through my sweaty hair. “The ones where they have so much passion that they have to fight with each other to keep from falling in love are the best.”
“Agreed,” she says, softer.
“It reminds me of us.”
Admission flashes in her eyes before they drop back to her book.
I smile, filing away that little tidbit she didn’t mean to reveal, and stand up. “I’m going to jump in the shower,” I say, dropping my shoes at the door.
“You should!” she hollers after me. “You stink, Donnelly!”
I laugh over my shoulder as I shut the door behind me, and give myself a point in our make-believe competition.
The kitchen bursts at the seams when I come downstairs.
All the Donnellys and Spencers are circled around the bar making sandwiches in assembly-line fashion.
Every once in a while, the mustard or mayo being squirted makes a fart noise, causing my nephews and nieces to break out in laughter.
I can’t help but smile. Five minutes ago that was me, Sera, and Bash.
My heart aches when I think about how carefree we used to be.
Before life got complicated, before things fell apart, before the accident.
I shake the storm cloud from my thoughts, grab two slices of sourdough from the bag, and join the line.
I don’t move anywhere for two to three minutes, and I look ahead to see what the holdup is.
Sera is standing at the end of the counter, disassembling a perfectly beautiful sandwich, and replacing the bread with lettuce.
I pause. She hates lettuce on her sandwiches.
Then I look out on the patio and see Bradley pacing back and forth on his phone.
She leaves the line with the lettuce sandwich on a plate, a few carrot sticks beside it, and a protein shake in her hands. She heads toward the back door.
“Fina,” I say, trying not to draw attention, “where is your lunch?”
“Oh, I’ll make mine in a minute. I’ve got to get Bradley’s out to him before his next meeting.” Her eyes dart around the room to see who’s listening, and when she realizes no one else is, her shoulders relax and she exhales slowly.
“Okay.” I shrug and look down at the dwindling lunch meat and cheeses.
I put the sourdough back in the bag and grab the white bread instead.
I add light mayo, heavy mustard, and all the fixin’s that Sera likes—then cut the sandwich diagonally.
I throw a handful of Cheetos on the side with a bunch of grapes, and head outside where she stands holding Brad’s undeserved non-wich.
I take his plate, ease it out of her hand, and replace it with hers.
I toss Brad’s plate onto the patio table.
“You waste that kind of love on the wrong guy,” I whisper into her ear, and walk back toward the lake house.
She’s frozen in place, studying the plate in her hands. Her jaw tightens, and for half a second I wonder if I made a mistake. Just before I reach the door, I hear her call my name.
“Thane, wait.”
I turn, expecting a sweet face full of gratitude for my thoughtfulness. Instead, she shoves the plate into my chest, scattering Cheetos all over the patio.
“I don’t know what you think you’re up to, but you need to stop,” she hisses, looking over her shoulder to see if Brad is aware. He’s not.
“It’s just a sandwich,” I protest.
“You and I both know it’s not. Between the Oreos, the coffee, and now this?”
I push her plate back into her hands, and pop one of her grapes into my mouth. I can’t help but look over at Brad before shooting her a cocky grin.
“It’s just a sandwich, Fina. Eat.”
Without giving her a chance to argue, I step through the door and shut it behind me.
At the back of the line, I grab my sourdough slices, and promptly put them back when I realize that all the lunch meat is gone.
I look outside at Sera and smile as she sits with her back to Brad and takes a bite of the sandwich I made for her.
Totally worth it.