Chapter 17 #3
When I get back, my family has claimed a third of the park, spreading out on blankets and folding chairs as the sun drops below the horizon.
The symphony of the mountains shifts, cicadas stopping their daytime buzzing to cede the floor to the chirps of crickets and the hoots of owls.
It all mixes with the laughter of the town, the soundtrack to all my best memories.
My eyes drift closed for a minute, savoring the sounds.
When I open them, Harrison waves both his arms over his head to get my attention. He’s behind Addy with her pulled tight between his legs. Thea’s on the blanket next to them, and in my drunken state, she seems to glow. A lighthouse shining in the distance.
“Where’s the other blanket?” I ask, surprised to hear the words come out slightly slurred.
Harrison lets his body drop back with a dramatic groan that makes Addy giggle. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
Of course he did. I’m the one who takes care of him, not the other way around. I should have known better than to agree when he said he’d grab it. But now’s not the time—with a mixture of rum and beer swirling around inside me and his fiancée wrapped around him—to hash it out.
“No worries, I’ll sort it out.”
I turn in a circle, eyeing the other blankets my cousins brought, but each of them lay out, making their bodies as big as humanly possible. When no one makes room, I decide the grass is a comfortable place to relax for a couple of hours. I plop down where I stand, laying out flat.
“What are you doing?” Thea asks as she chuckles.
I smile up at her. “Grass is soft.”
She drops her head back and laughs, that deep, throaty sound, and I think it may be my favorite sound in the world. Next time, I’m gonna record it so I can play it on repeat like a new Noah Kahan album.
My favorite sound, my favorite face, my favorite scent. Is she going to take over all my favorites?
“You’re pretty,” I murmur.
“You’re drunk,” she replies, but that beautiful smile spreads even farther across her face.
“Get off the grass,” Harrison says with a huff. “You know you’re allergic to it.”
I go up on my elbow, pointing a finger at Harrison. “Taking care is my job. Wait, taking care of people is my job.”
Harrison rolls his eyes, but smiles, and I think how lucky I am to have him. He drives me crazy at times, and there are plenty of things I couldn’t do because I was always taking care of him, but I wouldn’t trade him for all the high school baseball teams and the out-of-state colleges in the world.
“I love you, little brother,” I say with a gravity I didn’t know I could muster with this much alcohol in my system.
“Yeah, I love you, too, drunky. Now get over here. There’s plenty of room, and I don’t want you with a weird rash in our wedding photos,” Harrison says, shifting him and Addy a couple of inches to the left like he plans to have me sit next to Thea.
Addy grabs his arm, trying to tug him back toward me. “Let’s sit in the middle. That way we can both sit next to our siblings!”
He settles Addy more firmly between his legs. “The movie’s starting. Let’s just sit so we don’t piss off the people behind us.”
Addy opens her mouth again, but I cut her off. “She doesn’t want me by her sister because she’s afraid I’ll want to kiss her again.”
Thea spreads one of her hands across her face, but I can see her smile peeking out from behind it.
Harrison laughs so loudly that people around us shush him. “You’re going to be so embarrassed by all this tomorrow. Now get on the blanket.”
I grumble but crawl my way off the grass as Thea shifts closer to Addy, leaving just enough room for me.
My eyes meet hers, a question and request there, and she nods.
This isn’t what we agreed to, but the grass is starting to feel more itchy than soft, and nothing can compare to the softness of Thea’s arm that brushes mine.
“This is becoming a habit,” I whisper, eyes pinned to the screen.
“Have to wonder if it’s intentional at this point.”
“I promise, I’m not doing this on purpose,” I say, suddenly worried that she thinks I’m taking advantage of the situation.
Her pinkie finger shifts an inch closer, drifting over mine. It’s barely a touch, but it’s a balm and a firework at the same time. “I meant your family, not you.”
She moves her finger away from mine. What would she do if I grabbed it back?
I know the answer to that, but my mind can’t stop swirling with all the possibilities.
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days plays out on the screen, but there’s a much more interesting movie in my mind.
Thea letting out a squeak as I pull her between my legs just like Harrison has Addy positioned.
The two of us whispering commentary about the movie.
Getting to hear her unfiltered opinions without worrying about who’s watching us.
Thea’s scoff near the end of the movie breaks me out of my trance. Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey are reuniting on a bridge, and Thea can’t stop rolling her eyes.
“Don’t believe in love?” I ask, trying to keep my voice low, and when no one nearby yells at me, I assume I’ve succeeded.
Her mouth quirks up. “Not after less than two weeks, I don’t.”
“Really?” I face her fully, unable to stop my gaze from trailing down her elegant neck to the place where her pulse beats.
She doesn’t look at me, but there’s just enough light from the screen to see a blush come over her checks.
It’s adorable and new for my self-assured Thea.
“Yes, really. They don’t know each other.
A couple weeks isn’t enough time to see all the different sides of someone, and how can you love them without knowing all of them? ”
“I don’t know if I agree with that,” I say. “You can know the core of who someone is in a few days. All the rest of it is just extra.”
A terrifying thought crosses my mind—that it’s only been three days with Thea back in my life and I could already see myself falling in love with her—but I’m sure it’s the alcohol talking. Tomorrow, when I’m sober, I’ll remember this is just attraction disguised as more.
She looks at me, raising a brow. “Are you telling me you’ve fallen in love in a week?”
I scoff. “I’m telling you I think it’s possible. I’ve never fallen in love, period.”
The shock on her face embarrasses me, like the fact that I’ve never been in love is a character flaw. And maybe she’s right. I’m in my thirties and have never found anyone who stuck around long enough for us to fall in love. She must be cataloguing my red flags as we speak.
I tried to date more when I was younger.
My girlfriends always found it cute how much I took care of Harrison or were amazed that I already owned my own company, but that wore off.
They’d get annoyed with how much time I spent on my family, would tell me that my life was too boring, and they wanted more excitement.
I may let myself indulge in the fantasy of Thea, but it would end the same way with her.
She’s the most exciting woman I’ve ever met, and I’d eventually lose her.
She meets my gaze, and I brace myself.
“I’ve never fallen in love, either,” she says, and I feel like I’ve been bowled over. How could this incredible woman not have found love?
I keep my drunk tongue from saying, I could love you, and instead say, “That’s a shame. You deserve love, Thea.”
For a second, she looks as stricken as I feel, but then she turns back to the screen like the conversation never happened. And I go back to daydreaming about a future that won’t exist.