I tip my chin down, handing her back the phone with the familiar address on the screen.
"To be fair, I didn't know Drew's old building was also your old building. I had most of my stuff stored here when I moved in with… when I moved before. And Brooke said it was okay to leave it since he has the place anyway. Plus, this way if—"
"If things didn't work out staying with us, you wouldn't have to move things twice?"
She shrugs as she smiles sheepishly.
I huff out a laugh and shake my head. "It makes sense," I say, loosening my grip on the steering wheel and dropping my hands into my lap. My eyes meet hers for the first time since she came down the stairs, and for a blip of time, understanding passes between us.
I hope that's not the case.
"Alright, well, at least I know where we're headed."
I back my truck out of the driveway as Tessa's eyes wander out the window. Making my way down our street, I turn the radio up just enough to fill the silence, a familiar song starting as we make it to the top of the development.
Tessa dribbles her fingertips against her thigh to the beat, her phone vibrating on and off in her bag.
"Do you need to get that?" I ask, trying not to sound weird or possessive.
She shakes her head with a roll of her eyes. "It's my siblings' group chat. My brother Grant is sending his class options for the fall semester."
"To get your guys' opinions?"
She scoffs. "Mine mostly, I'm sure. I helped him with his resume last week, so he's probably looking for me to help him fill holes."
I nod, remembering our conversation about her being the leader of the five of them. "It's nice that they trust you."
"Yeah…" she says through a sigh. She stares out the window, and for the first time since it started, Tessa's tapping stops. "Yeah, I guess it is."
I turn onto the main street, thinking about how many times I've gone to my brother for advice, and how much I often wish that Ruthie had that option. "Is he the youngest?"
She grins. "Yeah, he's nineteen—a sophomore this year. Margot's next. She just turned twenty-two. Jo's twenty-five, then there's Owen and me. We're all three years apart."
I do the quickest math I've ever done, a pit forming in my stomach.
Tessa's thirty-one.
I assumed she was around Brooke's age, though I'd never asked for sure. But hearing it out loud hits harder than expected. Our seven-year age gap shouldn't feel so big, but Tessa's just starting over, and I'm—
"I've always felt older than I am," Tess says quickly out of nowhere—or maybe not.
I pause, her words hanging in the air as she waits for my reaction.
"And until recently, I've always felt younger than I am," I laugh honestly.
She rolls her eyes toward the roof of the truck. "You're not old, Liam."
I shrug off her words and the way they soothe something in me. "I guess not on paper. But when you're surrounded by rookies who are barely legal to drink, and your only kid just became a tween… something about pushing forty feels more like pushing extra innings."
Tessa laughs, and it drowns out the radio.
"Well, I don't know anything about the rookies, but I do know that Ruthie still thinks you're pretty cool."
Something about both halves of her statement hit me hard. The blow should loosen something in me, but instead, it knots tighter. "Good," I say vaguely.
The silence that falls between us feels innocent, but the way my grip tightens on the wheel doesn't. Maybe it's the topic, maybe it's the mention of the rookies when the name of one keeps flashing in my mind—eight letters screen-printed across Gator-green cotton. Either way, there's still a giant, sweatshirt-sized elephant looming between us.
I continue driving, hoping that it dissipates, focusing on the way Tess taps her thumb to the rhythm of the current song. The quiet isn't uncomfortable, but charged—like if I breathe too deeply I might saysomething I know I shouldn't. So I don't. But even with shallow breaths and my eyes on the road, I still catch Tessa peering over.
