Page 139 of Tessa and Nash

“No,” he says. “Weird, weird. Like she’s holding back a sermon.”

I glance back at the Town Hall doors, at the place where my future just got put on hold. “Yeah. There’s stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Land stuff,” I say. “Town stuff.”

“Engagement stuff?” he asks lightly.

My stomach drops.

“Jeez, Clay.”

“What?” he says innocently. “I heard you’re engaged. I’m allowed to ask.”

“Since when do you do innocent?”

He laughs again. “Since my older brother apparently got engaged without telling me.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” he says. “Because I leave town for five minutes and you’re…” He whistles, “engaged to Tessa Long.”

My heart skips about three beats.

“Did you lose a bet?” he asks. “I thought you guys always fought?”

“It’s not…” I stop. Recalculate. “It’s complicated.”

Clay hums. “That’s what people say right before Thanksgiving turns into a fistfight.”

I rub a hand over my face. “You haven’t even seen her in years.”

“I've seen her plenty,” he says. “She used to correct your homework out of spite.”

“She corrected everyone’s homework.”

“Yeah,” he says. “But she enjoyed yours.”

“She hated me,” I say, reflexively.

Clay snorts. “Brother, if that’s what hate looks like now, I gotta rethink some things.”

I close my eyes. “This is not helping.”

“Hey,” he says, softer. “I’m teasing. Mostly.”

Mostly is doing a lot of work there.

“So,” he continues, “what’s she like now?”

I hesitate.

Which is apparently answer enough.

“Oh,” Clay says slowly. “Oh no.”

“What?”