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I turn around and Alex is leaning against the entryway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. I sigh and turn back around and lean against the counter, my head hanging.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just tired.”
Alex scoffs and walks around the island, tossing the paper plates and drink cans in the trash.
“That’s not your tired face,” he informs me.
“Then what face is it?”
“It’s yourI’m totally screwedface.”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair.
“I didn’t know I had that face.”
“You do, I just haven’t seen it in a while.”
“Why does that not reassure me?”
Alex laughs softly and glances over my shoulder at the girls.
“I don’t know if it should bother me how much Taylor’s into Chris Pratt—or Chris Evans— I don’t really know which is which.”
“Pratt is Peter Quill, the one with the racoon, and Evans is Captain America.” I sigh. “And Taylor’s obsessed with you, you have nothing to worry about.”
Alex grins. “Yeah, I know.”
I roll my eyes and walk around him to the pantry to grab a bag of popcorn.
“You can go back to the movie now.” I nod my chin back toward the living room.
“I’ve already seen this one.”
I shrug and put the popcorn in the microwave and hit the popcorn button.
“It’s okay to like her, Wyatt,” Alex says softly.
“What?”
“You’ve been watching Lucy more than you’ve been watching the movie, man.”
I roll my eyes. “That seems inaccurate.”
“It’s not, do you know how many times I’ve caught you looking at her in the last hour? Thirteen. I’ve been keeping track. And that’s just the times I’ve caught you, you know, when I’m not actually watching the movie or looking at my smoking hot wife.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“See, it does, though. You never invite girls over for our movie nights. And all the girls you do date, you rarely even give a second look at. You forget that I’ve known you since grade school. I know when you’re into a girl and when you’re just lonely, there’s a difference.”
“I really wish you and Willa would just stay out of my love life, or lack thereof,” I grumble and take the popcorn out before it starts beeping.
“I just don’t get why you think it’s some god-awful thing to actuallycareabout someone.” Alex shakes his head.
And how could he get it? He hadn’t witnessed the light physically leave his father’s eyes when his mother died. He didn’t watch his father turn into a ghost—into only half the man he used to be. I haven’t heard my dad belly laugh in five years. I haven’t heard him hum along to a song in five years. I haven’t seen a smile reach his eyes in five years. Why would I willingly choose that fate not just for myself, but for whomever decides to fall in love with me? Alex wouldn’t get that. And I hope he never has to.
“Just drop it, man,” I mutter.
“No, I won’t just drop it. You deserve to be happy, Wyatt.”
