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“Didn’t realize talking about our brothers would get you so worked up, Mandrew.”
He laughs. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s your proximity.”
I absorb this and it feels like taking a hit of a drug. “Everything is so much better this time.”
Andrew pauses. “What’s that?”
Oh, shit. I open my mouth to cover, but his attention is snagged over my shoulder.
“Oh my God. Maisie, look.”
Relieved, I follow his gaze. There, on a turquoise velvet couch with a FOR SALE sign on it, is a pillow with a needlepoint of Christopher Walken wearing a Santa hat and words below him reading Walken in a Winter Wonderland.
Bursting out laughing, I say, “Well, that’s a coincidence.”
Andrew looks delighted. “We might need to get this and keep it in the Boathouse. I have very fond memories of discussing Christopher Walken in there.”
“You do?” I ask, hugging him from behind and pressing my lips between his shoulder blades. “Elaborate, please.”
“You see, it was just before I had sex in there last night,” he whispers over his shoulder in teasing confidence, “with a woman who I’ve known forever and who used to wear my brother’s Batman underwear as a pirate hat.”
I stretch to playfully bite his shoulder. “Look at that giant bag of peppermint Hershey’s Kisses. That is my dream right there. I could live off that for a month.”
He follows my attention to the five-pound bag on display and gives a dramatic shudder. “You’re kidding.”
“They’re my favorite! I can only find them this time of year, and I eat so many I get a stomachache.”
Andrew turns in my arms, frowning down at me. “Are you a white chocolate evangelist?”
“One hundred percent!” I laugh-yell. “Oh my God, are we having our first fight?”
“I will die on the White Chocolate Is Not Chocolate hill.”
“It may not be chocolate, but it is delicious.”
“Wrong, Maisie,” he says in Mandrew voice. “It tastes like fake mint and ass.”
“Like fake mint and ass?” I reply in outraged Maisie voice. “You’re the one who steals the crappy, plasticky chocolate from the Advent calendar.”
“Well . . . it’s hard to argue with that.” He starts to bend to meet my kiss, but we both go still at the sound of Theo’s voice behind me.
“Whoa, whoa. What exactly am I seeing right now?”
• • •
It is as quiet as midnight when I turn around. Theo stares at me, and then at his brother, before he laughs dryly and stares at the floor. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Hey, Theo.” I don’t know what else to say.
Andrew has turned behind me but hasn’t moved away. In fact, he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling my back to his front. “Theo. Hey.”
“Hey.” Theo gestures between us. “So—is this a thing?”
“Yeah. It is.” Andrew lets that sink in before adding, “You okay, man?”
Theo studies us for several painful beats. “Not sure what to say.” He looks at my hands over where Andrew’s fingers rest gently on my stomach. “You’ve clearly kept it from everyone.”
“It’s new,” I say.
“How new?”
“Couple days. Or maybe years,” Andrew jokes, smiling down at me. “It’s hard to say.”
I want to be charmed, but that may be the worst thing Andrew could have said right now.
Theo looks directly at me. “Mae, do you have a second to talk?”
In all practicality, I’ve already lived this day once before. I might have all the time in the world. Even if there are seven million things I would rather be doing. “Sure?”
I look over my shoulder at Andrew, and he releases me, giving me a small nod. Theo is already halfway to the door, and I have no choice but to follow, leaving Andrew behind.
My mind is vibrating with nerves; it feels like I have no more words in my head. The night with Theo feels like a hundred years ago, but I worry it will forever color how I see him. And I can’t even tell him about it.
Out on the street, Theo keeps walking—passing a diner, a small art gallery, a few other stores until we reach a quieter stretch of Main Street. He turns to face me, leaning against the front of a closed-up shop with sandstone bricks, wood trim, windows papered over. He tilts his head back, staring skyward.
“I don’t even know how to start,” he says. “I’m still trying to figure out how to react.”
“I’m sorry you found out like that.”
He laughs, running a hand through his hair and looking past me down the street. It’s so cold, but I’m not sure if the color that blooms in his cheeks is from the way the temperature seems to be dropping by the second or from anger. A car drives by. A couple with happy smiles and shopping bags approaches on the sidewalk, and Theo and I step out of the way to let them pass.
Finally, he says, “I feel so stupid.”
