Page 44 of Hearts on the Line

Diced chili and salt go in before I flip the shrimp over. Almost ready. “You don’t need to leave. Just surprised me is all.”

“It wouldn’t have surprised you if you’d talked to me about what happened.”

I remove the rest of the shrimp from the pan and place a pair in each bowl. When I’m done, I reach behind me and drizzle olive oil over the top of the soup. Then I turn and snap the towel over my shoulder, feeling my chest crack open the moment I take her in.

Is this ever going to get easier? I can finish the car in a day or two, and then I won’t have to worry about it any longer. But until then, she’s fucking killing me. Being here, so close.

Sloane is wearing a light-blue sundress. As far as I can tell, no makeup, just the fresh glow that kisses her skin after she spends time at the beach. Her lips are plump and berry-stained, and I can’t look away from how her dress clings to her, moves over her body.

“I mean it,” she says, leaning in closer to whisper. “I can find another place to stay. I’m sorry it’s so awkward.”

“Grab a couple bowls.” I can only seem to be an asshole around her. I clear my throat, trying again. “Can you bring a couple out? I’ll grab the rest.”

Sloane’s tongue darts out to wet her lips before she picks up the bowls, expertly balancing them in her hands, and she moves out to the dining room.

“Soup!” a delighted chorus cries out.

“I do my best, ladies.”

I will do anything to make my grandmother laugh. It was always easier for Jack. He’s such a charming shit. He could talk paint off a wall, my dad likes to say. Annie is the baby, so that’s a given. And Nolan hasn’t been home in years except for a call or text from time to time to let us know he’s still alive.

I’m the screw-up.

The kid who wrapped his dad’s car around a telephone pole not once but twice because I liked the way it felt to drive recklessly fast. The one who lost his hockey scholarship and became a townie working on the family lobster boat.

It’s easier that way, to live within those expectations.

I place each bowl down, then sit at the end of the table. “To start off, I’ve made a chilled avocado soup with spicy seared shrimp.”

Everyone tentatively picks up their spoons and dips them into the soup, slowly bringing them up to their mouths.

This is as close as I get to chasing a high now. I wait, watching their expressions. It was a gamble not to go with a gazpacho, but it’s still too early in the season for tomatoes.

I sit and wait, finding myself looking only at one person. I’m hanging on to her reaction. I have no idea why I want to impress her so badly, but here I am.

Sloane peeks up from her spoon, her eyes meeting mine before returning her attention back to her bowl. She slowly slips the spoon into her mouth, her eyes shutter, and her shoulders drop on a soft sigh.

That.

I did that.

And now I’m pretty certain that will be the new high I chase.

“I never thought I’d eat green soup, but this is delicious, Ethan,” Nana says.

Gloria and June nod along.

“Thank you.” I look around, happy everyone is satisfied, and turn to start the next course before Gloria speaks up.

“Sloane, what do you think of the soup?”

She sets down her spoon, studying the table before our gazes connect.

“I’m starting to understand why you’re so secretive with your invites to your supper club, ladies. There’d be a line out the door each week.”

By the time the next course is ready, I’ve managed to plate everything without too much trouble and end up joining them.

I’m still pinching myself that Sloane is here, sitting at my family table, eating my food.