Everybody should have someone they could ask to help bury a body. This girl would have showed up for me with a tarp and a shovel, no questions asked. Larry hadn’t called on me for anything so criminal or dramatic, but this request felt just as serious for some reason.
“I’ll come. Of course, I’ll come if you need me,” I said.
She sighed, but this time in relief. The lines on her pale forehead smoothed, but the tightness around her heavily made-up eyes remained. “Thank you.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked gently. “Do you not like the guy Kayla is bringing? Is he an asshole or something?”
“Or something,” Larry murmured as she stood from her stool, already reaching for the door of the booth to step back out into the cloudy, cold December day. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
And then she was off to help a woman and her three kids select the perfect tree.
I stared after my cousin for a moment, questioning what was going on and then figuring it was only fair that I had to wonder because I was hiding things from her, too.
Larry’s secrets didn’t reveal themselves during the drive to Abby’s property later that evening. Nor was I able to deduce the reason behind her panicked invitation once we arrived. Everything seemed fine on her end. I, however, was a hot mess as I kept an eye out for Brady. Nerves made me fidgety and distracted. I told myself I didn’t want to see him, but the truth had my heart rate climbing into my throat.
When Brady failed to materialize, I didn’t bother with a sigh of relief. Instead, I tried to focus on running interference for Larry and playing the role of buffer. But for her part, Larry laughed and joked as she sipped her beer around the bonfire like she didn’t have a care in the world. And like she hadn’t begged me to be her backup here tonight. I was confused about why she needed me. She wore a smile for everyone—Kayla’s new hookup included.
The guy had to be six five, and he was built like a tank. His name was Adam and he seemed nice. He followed Kayla around like a puppy and looked at her with stars in his eyes.
Maybe Larry was nervous for her friend. Kayla had been in a long-distance relationship with her high school boyfriend for many years. They broke up probably six months ago, and since then, it seemed like Kayla was making up for lost time, regularly bringing home guys from the tourist bar where she worked. Could be that Larry didn’t want to see her friend get hurt again if things with Adam were progressing past the one-night-stand phase.
I wasn’t sure why Larry wanted me by her side, but that was where I stayed. Even when Brady finally made an appearance. He caught sight of me and stumbled into the back of Jase Wilcox. I forced myself to look away and focus on whatever Kayla had been talking about.
Brady’s bonfire attendance wasn’t unexpected, but there hadn’t really been a way to prepare myself for it. The temptation to look his way was strong, but I kept my gaze resolutely on my companions. I stiffened as the breeze carried snippets of his voice or his laughter my direction. Whatever gravitational force that had pulled us together in the first place was working its magic tonight, too. I was overly aware, waiting for the moment he appeared at my side with a teasing jibe or a challenging look.
But that moment never came.
With three ignored texts burning a hole in my pocket, Brady continued to give me the space I hadn’t really asked for but had demanded all the same.
It was nearing eleven when Larry elbowed me and asked me to grab her another beer from the coolers.
“You sure?” I said quietly, still looking for any sign of distress.
Her eyes narrowed playfully, the winged liner sharp enough to sting, as she said, “Yes, Mother. I’m sure.”
Kayla and Adam laughed, and Larry turned away from me.
Swallowing down my confusion, I stood and made my way toward the picnic tables beneath the awning.
In my distraction over my cousin and her strange behavior, I failed to check my surroundings. Brady was already digging through one of the coolers when I approached.
He glanced up and stilled momentarily before removing his hand from the ice and rubbing it dry on his jeans.
We watched each other for a long moment, and I fucking hated how I was acting—like I was scared or cautious, when I’d never been either of those things in my whole damn life. But more than that, I hated how Brady was being with me. This tentative version of himself. It was like watching him in his truck that time, in the grip of some unseen panic right before I’d kissed him to snap him out of it.
Brady felt distant, out of reach and miles away. Even when we’d hated each other—or I’d thought we did—he’d been someone I couldn’t ignore. Present in a way that punched me in the gut. A firework in brilliant, sparkling colors that demanded my attention.
This version, here and now, was dull and hazy around the edges. And knowing I’d made him that way just compounded the distance between us and the shame squeezing my heart.
I didn’t want things to be sooff. I didn’t want to feel this way. I liked routine and expectation, normalcy and comfort.
But what version of normal did I even want?
The one where we fought like cats and dogs, or the alternate timeline where Brady ate me out on his kitchen counter and I wanted to fall asleep in his arms.
“Hi,” I finally managed, voice rough and uncertain, knowing I couldn’t keep standing here just so I could look at him.
“Hey,” he returned softly.
