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Everyone followed Pattie back inside except for Shelley and Bronte, and when Chris strolled over, zipping up his hoodie, Shelley angled her head, her eyes roaming over him suspiciously.
He greeted her with a wave, his nerves rattled by her stare.
“Hey.” She pursed her lips, appearing as if she was about to give the game away but stopped when Zoe shouted something from inside the house. Shelley threw him one last raise of her brow over her shoulder as she ambled inside, leaving Chris and Bronte alone.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Bronte said, holding a half-eaten cookie in one hand.
“Yeah. Luke was—”
“You play the guitar.”
He laughed at her accusatory tone. “Yeah.”
“And you have a really good voice.” She pointed the cookie at him. “Like, really good.”
He smiled, scratching the back of his head. The guitar and his voice had landed him his first big role in The Travellers, a made-for-TV movie about a band from the 1950s who time traveled to present-day. It was touted as Back to the Future meets High School Musical and spawned two sequels.
Chris only hoped the jig wasn’t up. He was really starting to like it here, and if Bronte, or anyone else for that matter, found out who he was, he’d have to go back home to Los Angeles. “Thanks. I guess.”
The two started back to the house, but Bronte’s eyes stayed on him. “You were incredible.”
Chris, for the first time in a very long time, felt himself blush at her compliment.
“Luke’s on the autism spectrum. He’s never like that with people he doesn’t know.”
“He liked the music, that’s all.”
“No.” She shook her head, reaching her fingers out as if she wanted to touch his arm, but she stopped herself and dropped her hand. “We know he likes music, but that was different. He was communicating with you, looking you in the eyes. It’s… I can’t believe it.”
Chris held the back door open for Bronte and, since he had no such qualms about being bold, briefly touched her back as she walked past him. He flattened his hand against her thin blue sweater and guided her into the dining room, where everyone gathered around the table. They settled next to each other in the corner as Steven lit the candles on the homemade cake in front of Luke and turned off the lights. All at once, the family started singing “Happy Birthday,” and Chris glanced over at the woman next to him. Her eyes shone in the reflection of the lit candles, her dimples prominent in the shadows, and without thinking, he reached for his phone, snapping a picture.
“What’re you doing?”
He positioned the phone toward Luke, surrounded by his brothers and parents as they helped him blow out the candles. “Taking pictures.”
He snapped a few in quick succession before showing them to her. “They’re really cute,” she said. “Can you send them to me?”
When he handed her his phone, she plugged her number into it. He shouldn’t have been so excited over getting her phone number, but here he was, like a twelve-year-old with his first crush.
Pattie held out a piece of cake to Bronte. “Do you want to take a piece for Hunter?”
“No, that’s okay.”
Chris wasn’t at all impressed by what he’d seen of Bronte’s boyfriend so far, and he couldn’t help but be curious about him. He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible when he asked, “Why isn’t Hunter here? He’s missing out on good cake.”
Bronte avoided his eyes. “He lives in Harrisburg and works a lot of hours, so it’s hard for him to find time to visit.”
“But it’s okay for her to go there all the time,” Pattie said under her breath. She obviously wasn’t warm toward the guy, and Chris tried not to be too happy about it.
He forked a piece of cake into his mouth. “How long is the drive there?”
“An hour and a half on a good day. And speaking of,” Bronte started, setting her piece of cake on the table, “I should get going.” She said goodbye to each of her family members, and Chris waited for her to acknowledge him somehow, disappointed when all he got was a slight tilt of her chin over her shoulder. “See you guys later.”
Pattie took Bronte’s place beside Chris and helped herself to the cake left on the table. Leaning toward him, she said, “I love all my kids, but sometimes you want to kick them in the pants.” She smiled at Chris, her voice softening. “I’m so happy you’re living next door. Steven loves having another boy in the house again.”
Chris looped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m happy I’m here too.”
* * *
