Pretty impressive, given that this is our third conversation.
“Thanks for being a friend.” Affection swells in my chest, and I rest my head on his shoulder, just for a moment.
And just for a moment, he rests his head against mine.
Like I’m a perfect fit.
But then a door slams in the parking lot, and a minivan full of children rushes toward the Fellowship Hall.
No, not children.
Baseball players.
“Hey, boss!” Lucas Fischer yells. Sean and I both raise our heads, and I wonder if he feels like he got caught as much as I do.
“Hey, Lucas!” I call. Lucas is dressed like an off-duty extreme sports commentator, with a Mudflaps tank top that’s cut too deep on the sides and shows more than a few flashes of his obliques. His wraparound sunglasses sit backwards on his head as he struts into the church hall. Something tells me he’ll be met by high fives and backslaps instead of judgment and condescension.
His identical twin is wearing a polo and shorts with leather flip flops. Understated to his brother’s … not. He waves at me, as do a few other people as they go inside.
Fletch isn’t one of them.
“Whoa. He looks even less happy to be here than I bet you feel,” Sean says, bumping me with his elbow.
I like that we already have this rhythm. Playful bumps and nudges. Resting our heads against each other.
Sean is the kind of guy who probably earns loyalty and laughter everywhere he goes.
I’m no exception.
“I should go back in and sit with my family,” he says, standing and grabbing his plate. “Are you coming in?”
I squint up at him. The sun has shifted, and it’s bursting through the tree limbs, illuminating him like an angel.
“Maybe in a minute.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Whenever you’re ready. My dad saved you a seat at our table.”
I smile. “Your dad did, did he?”
Sean gives me a sheepish grin. “He’s nice like that.”
“Unlike his son, who’s clearly known for his utter viciousness.”
Sean chuckles, almost choking on the laugh. “What can I say? I am who I am.”
I laugh and watch him leave. And when he gets to the open doors and spins to give me a final wave, I think maybe things are going to be okay.
CHAPTER SIX
SEAN
I’d be lying if I said my mind doesn’t keep going back to Kayla. Kayla beneath that magnolia tree wearing a cream so pearly, it was almost wedding day material. And with that auburn hair spilling down her shoulders …
She’s impossible to get out of my head.
She stayed after most everyone else had left the potluck and—get this—threw away trash. She went all over the lawn with a garbage bag, using a second bag as a makeshift glove.
And I only know she did because that’s usuallymything. I came back from the parking lot after saying goodbye to my parents, and it was just Kayla, the pastor, and a custodian left.
