I pose the question softly. Thane barks it.
“Whoa.” Michaela raises her hands in a surrendering motion, throwing me a confused expression like I’ve grown two heads. And fuck, maybe I have. Being in the direct vicinity of the object of my desire is turning me lightheaded. “Did you forget? We have to be at the ceramic café in thirty minutes.”
Shit.
We do.
“Oh, you’re right.” I’m dejected at the thought of leaving Thane behind. It’s like I’ve turned into a fiend. Now that he’s near me—close enough to smell his masculine, spicy cologne—I never want to leave.
Thane’s expression turns somber. He’s barely touched his plate of food.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but he seems unhappy at the thought of us leaving.
Did he think we’d stay home with him today? Granted, it’s Sunday and we don’t have classes. Michaela usually goes to the ballet studio and I spend my weekend doing my assignments, my nails, and watching TV.
“When will you girls be back?” Thane asks, hesitantly reaching for his fork. But he doesn’t eat. Just pushes his scrambled eggs and bacon around back and forth.
“Early afternoon.” Michaela has already finished her meal, the fast eater that she is, and drained her coffee dry. To her credit, she does seem apologetic to leave in a haste. “Marlow and I booked this slot over a month ago. She loves ceramics and painting. We wouldn’t want to miss it.”
I do love it. In fact, I have a growing collection of novelty mugs. Some I bought. Some I painted over the years at this particular café. Ceramic painting is one of my favorite decompressing activities. It’s something I look forward to every month.
But now I wouldn’t mind missing it.
Especially if it means spending the day here. Talking to Thane. Learning more about him. What does he do on the weekends? Does he go anywhere? Does he partake in any fun activities? What are his hobbies? The list goes on. I’m so fascinated with this man and he’s a gold mine that I just want to keep digging up until I’ve consumed every facet that composes him. And if that makes me a greedy girl, so be it.
“Ah.” He nods to himself and scratches his jaw. “I see. I hope you girls have fun.”
Michaela and I exchange a quick glance.
The way he says it…it almost sounds sad. Lonely. Thane probably cleared out his whole schedule for the day after finding out that we were coming over.
It tugs at me.
Thane and Michaela need help bridging the distance between them and I’m steadfastly struck with the thought that perhaps this cosmic intervention today—the apartment leak—and me tagging along was for a reason. What kind of a best friend would I be to Michaela if I didn’t push her to speak to her estranged brother—more so now that she’s confided in me that she wants to apologize and make amends?
Before I can second guess myself, I blurt out, “Come with us. We’ll call the café and update the reservation for three.”
Thane and Michaela rear back and then stare at one another, as if trying to gauge how they’ll react to being in the same place, at the same time, for longer than a handful of minutes.
I grow even more tender for this sibling duo.
Thane appears like he wants to decline the invitation, the wheels in his head churning.
Michaela, ever the brave girl, pushes her shoulders back and inhales a courageous breath. “Yes. Come with us, Thane. It’ll be fun. Different and perhaps a girlier way to spend your Sunday, but fun nonetheless.” And with hope, she adds, “Plus, we haven’t hung out together in forever, right? It’ll be like old times.”
The beseeching gets to him.
Thane clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay. I’ll come.”
Chapter Four
THANE
How did I get roped into going to a ceramic café on a hot Sunday afternoon when I had plans of fixing the backyard deck?
I glance ahead of me at the giggling girls walking down the sidewalk, arm-in-arm, as we head towards our destination.
That’s how.
