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My heart thunders. My eyes shine with the threat of tears. I didn’t expect that, but I love the sentiment. It makes me sad too.
Yesterday morning on the deck, he talked about his aunt and uncle. I don’t think they were good to him. But these guys are. They’re like his home.
Rhys stretches out an arm, pats Gavin on the back. Hollis offers a fist for knocking. “We’re fucking family. That’s not going to change,” Hollis assures him.
“Even if the team trades me,” Rhys adds.
“They won’t, man,” Gavin says, reassuring him too.
I swallow past a knot in my throat. The fondness between the three of them has me reaching for a tissue and dabbing my eyes. I don’t like showing too many emotions. But I have no choice right now. Discreetly, I tuck the tissue in my pocket.
Gavin shifts his focus to me, that same serious look in his hazel eyes. “My friends are everything to me. I never had a family I could count on. My parents died when I was five. I don’t remember them.”
I can’t hold back the emotions now. Twin tears slip down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly, then he rolls his lips and seems to shake off the hurt. “And I kind of think of you as a friend now too, Briar.”
It’s only been a few short days, but I think of myself that way too. “We’ll stay friends,” I say, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
This is a promise that feels vital for all of us to keep. It’s one that’s so important that we put our hands together in the middle of the table—the guys on the bottom, me on top.
“Friends,” we say as we make our vow.
We might be rivals to the world, but here in this cottage we’re unconventional lovers, and we’ve all become friends.
When we let go, Rhys glances toward the clock on the wall. “Since we’re all free this afternoon, maybe we could go to the festival just for fun.” Then he adds, sealing the deal, “As friends.”
Sounds like a perfect day.
That afternoon as we wander past a booth offering kits for making your own pickled radishes, my phone pings. I check it, and there’s a text from Ivy.
Ivy: My old apartment is available!!!! My friend Jackson just moved out. (I bought it a while ago and I’ve been subleasing it. You can have it for free though.)
I beam, writing back immediately to the great news.
Briar: I won’t take it for free. But I will take it.
Ivy: You can pay me in yoga and playlists.
Briar: I will pay you in money! Yoga, playlists, and my awesome company are just a bonus.
Ivy: I love my bonuses. But there’s only one issue. There’s no furniture.
Briar: I don’t even care. I’ll sleep on the floor.
When I put the phone away, I tell the guys the good news, and they high-five me.
Like friends.
We spend the rest of the afternoon goofing off. We test out kites. Try hummus and chips. Nibble on crepes. Listen to music. Then we hit the rides. In the fun house, when the four of us stop in front of the warped mirror, I point to Rhys’s shoes. “You do have clown feet.”
“Told you so,” he says.
It feels like we are a new friend group, one that can last beyond this week. I’m buoyed by the possibilities of these kinds of days when we’re back in San Francisco, and I even say as much as we trot down the steps of the fun house as the sun dips lower in the late afternoon sky. “We have to do this in the city,” I say to them, and I barely notice the woman walking toward me.
Until I smack right into Nova.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, taken aback, my breath knocked out of me.
