Page 23 of The True-Blue Romance

Trevor waves from the blanket, and Beau joins him in a graceful collapse. I sit down a little more carefully because I have more weight to distribute. Harper sends me a calculating sort of look that I know means he knows about my dad and wants to bring it up, so I beat him to the punch.

“Hi, Harp.”

“Lee,” Harper says with his nose in the air. “You look nice today.”

Oh, wait. What? “Huh?”

“We’re working on giving compliments before sarcasm,” Jackson says with a grin that’s a little far too pleased.

“Not me,” Nolan announces with a grin like a shark smelling blood. “You’re looking very farmer-ish today.”

“I am a farmer?” I ask because suddenly I am not so sure. I look toward Trevor with a plea for help.

Trevor just snorts. “It’s the plaid-short-sleeve-button-down-and-baseball-cap combo. It’s giving farmer chic.”

“Okay,” I say, suddenly at a loss for words.

Harper leans forward, close enough that no one else can hear him when he whispers, “Andy told me.”

“I figured,” I mumble as I hunch my shoulders to make myself as small as possible. “How long until Joey knows?”

“I’d tell him before he has a chance to find out from someone else,” Harper says diplomatically, just before leaning back to cuddle into Jackson’s broad chest. “I love this movie, it’s so good. The Windex part always gets me.”

“Such a simple creature,” Nolan teases. He leans back on his hands, showing off his tattooed arms. His hair is a little more styled than the last time I saw him in March, and his nails are painted a vivid bright pink. Nolan catches me staring, winks, then falls all the way to the blanket to lie on his back. “I could take a nap.”

Harper reaches over to run his fingers through Nolan’s hair. “Take a nap, then.”

Nolan hums and keeps his eyes closed, seemingly enjoying the rare affection Harper is so willing to show. Jackson and Trevor share a knowing look that I can’t decipher. Harper has always needed friends but had issues making them, unless you count his built-in best friend Andy, who’s also his cousin. It’s sort of nice to see him finding a new friend who seems to get him on a level the rest of us don’t. It’s interesting to see Jackson, who seems so territorial of Harper, so willing to allow him to show an open display of love to such a famous rockstar. I’m so distracted with watching Harper basically pet the hot rockstar that I don’t realize Joey is making his way over.

Not until Harper goes very still and his eyes widen. “Lee,” Harper murmurs while cutting his eyes to the side toward a very intense-looking Joey.

I lift my head when Joey stops beside me, feet carefully not touching the picnic blanket. “Hello, Joseph.”

“I need you to come with me.”

I blink slowly. “I am here with my friends to enjoy the feature film.”

Beau snorts so hard I think he might snort his stomach out through his nose.

Joey reaches down, gently grabs my bicep, and deftly pulls me up. I can feel my eyes going big and wide at the display of strength. I forget, sometimes, how strong Joey is, mostly because he’s always so exceedingly gentle with me. That’s almost always what I need, but the display of strength has my mind wondering what it would be like if he tossed me around, if I gave him permission to get a little rough. I clamp that down so tight that I bite my tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

Joey all but frog-marches me away from the noise of the moviegoers and toward the citrus groves. I want to dig my feet in and stop what I know is coming. But it’s inevitable, so I let him drag me along, all while watching the perfect cut of his steeled jaw and the black curls that bounce on top of his head with every heavy fall of his feet. Joey is always gentle with me, but something about him forcing my hand is making me fall a little more in love than I was only moments ago.

He finally ducks into a row of orange trees, successfully hiding us away from any prying eyes. I bite my lip to stop the aggrieved moan from escaping my lips when he pulls his hand away. His balled-up fists land on his hips as he looks at me like I’m a scorned child.

“Talk,” Joey demands.

“Hello.”

“Andrew Bradley.”

I sigh and cover my face with my hands. “That’s not fair, pulling out the full name. Joey, I’m doing my best here.”

“Why did I find out your dad is in a memory care facility from fucking Benji White.”

Oh fuck. I peek at him from between my fingers. “I didn’t want you to do what you always do.”

Joey’s face hardens. “What do I always do?”