“Of course it’s better.” I reach over and snag another grape from the platter that catering prepared for us. “I’m not going to pant after him. That’s embarrassing. That makes me like everyone in his DMs begging for a nude selfie.”
“Just for the record, I think he’d send you one.” Emory grins.
“Oh my god.” I laugh. “He would not. I’m not Tristan’s type. There has never been anything like that between us and there never will be.”
Even if for thirty-seven seconds I liked the way his body felt pushing against mine. Even if dancing made me want to melt into him.
Sienna makes a sound of disagreement.
I sit up. I can’t go my whole summer speculating about this. “Guys. I’m serious. He proposed. Right after the party.”
Sienna and Emory wear equal expressions of shock before Emory’s morphs to triumph.
I shake my head. “Not like that. He asked to give it a go. Said it could be fun.”
Their faces fall.
“He didn’t,” Sienna whispers. “God, that’s shitty.” Shelays a hand on my arm. Her eyes are warm with sympathy, and it makes my stomach squeeze.
“It’s not,” I protest. “It’s not shitty. I mean, it would be if I—you know.” The unspoken words hang in the air.
“But you don’t,” Emory says staunchly.
“I don’t.” I swallow, then straighten my shoulders and look my friends in the eyes. “I’m dating other guys now, anyway. And Tristan is my friend. Maybe my best friend.”
“Traitor,” Sienna says affectionately, but she passes me the last cluster of the grapes I like, and her loving gesture takes the sting out of her words.
“Good friends are hard to come by,” Emory says, giving me a small smile. She and I are more similar, while Sienna makes friends just by breathing. She’s the type of person you want to bask in the presence of.
Emory is prickly on the outside and sweet deep down. Fierce and loyal.
“Totally.” I pop another grape into my mouth, the juicy flavor bursting in a rush, my heart full of love for these women who care enough to ask about me and listen to the answers. “I didn’t always have an easy time making friends.”
The silence after my words is comfortable. Emory’s eyes are shut, but I know she’s listening. Sienna is watching me as she pops open a sunscreen.
“We moved a lot growing up. Like, all the time. Sometimes David would keep a job for only half a school year. That was the hardest.” I fiddle with the stem on the bunch of grapes. “I wasalwaysthe new kid.”
“Oof.” Sienna’s word comes out on a breath.
“Yeah. It sucked. I invested in people, and then we’d move, and things would fizzle. Friends who texted on my birthday would stop remembering, guys who swore we’d keep talking after I left would get girlfriends, and I don’tknow…” I lift one shoulder. “I guess I started to get more protective. More closed off.”
I let my eyes drift shut, and then Emory’s head lands on my shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you have us now. And Tristan.”
“Me too.” I smile to myself. “That’s why I can’t lose him. Wanting him and acting on it would ruin everything.”
There are a few heartbeats of silence, then the low drone of a motor coming toward us. I push up to sitting, shading my eyes at the boat that’s coming closer. It’s a small fishing boat. There’s a guy in it. And a dog that seems to be loving the trip by the way it stands at the stern, tongue lolling in the wind.
“Who’s that?” Sienna asks.
“Not sure.” I shade my eyes while Emory sits up next to me and covers her breasts with her arm.
The man in the boat comes closer, until we can see that he’s not wearing a shirt and should probably never wear one again.
“Holy shit,” Sienna murmurs. “That’s Christian Halpern.”
We watch the mayor motor over the waves.
“I didn’t know he looked likethatunder his clothes,” Emory says.
