right?”
“Are you?”
“You see what I want you to see. Sound familiar?”
“You want me to see you’re not a playboy? You want me to see you have a girlfriend? You want me to see you play mind games?”
He smirks. “Maybe all of the above.” He arches an eyebrow. “Maybe not the last one, or maybe none at all.” He sniffs, and my eyes are drawn to the point of his red nose. It’s perfect. Just like his eyes, his rosy cheeks, the stubble…his lips. “Would any of those make a difference?”
“Sure is taking them forever to go to the bathroom.”
“So good at evading questions that require emotional output. Don’t draw the walls of your little dungeon back up. Don’t punt the ball yet. Do you still think your psychological profile—er, assessment of the brothers is correct? That Ryan is the one who wants to settle, and I’m the one who’s”—he does air quotes with his free hand—“dangerous? What was the other word you used?”
My eyes narrow. Every part of my being wants to tell him it was completely accurate, and that everything is going just how I envisioned it.
“Or are you struggling with the pangs of jealousy I swear I saw course through your body the moment you saw Rebecca at my side? Has the grass suddenly become a tad bit greener for you?”
My lips part, but words refuse to form.
He rolls his eyes. “I really am sorry about Gabe. Enjoy your evening with my brother.”
Rebecca and Gabby exit the old building laughing, and Joe tilts his head. My eyes search his in an effort to understand what just happened. As if I wasn’t confused before, it’s like my head has been tossed around in a washing machine, put on a needle, and someone tipped it into a never-ending spin.
I drag in a deep breath, feeling the cold all the way to the base of my lungs. With each step Joe takes away from me, the walls of my fortress crack.
Let It Snow plays on the speakers as Ryan joins me at my side, a smirk on his face, and rubbing his hands together. “So where do you wanna go first?”
I point to the table of complimentary refreshments. “You don’t want anything?”
“Nah, maybe when we get back.”
“Have you heard Darius Rucker’s version of this song?” I ask, as I mouth the lyrics.
He takes my hand and tucks it in the crook of his arm. “You know there’s not been much time for listening to anything other than pulses, breath, and bowel sounds.” He leads us out of the congested area and onto one of the lighted paths, and I toss the remainder of my hot chocolate into the trash. “Left or straight?”
“Left. I love Darius Rucker. He’s a Charleston boy.”
“Have you ever seen him live?”
“No, but it’s on my bucket list. Hint, hint.” I giggle. This is easy. When it’s just us, no worries, no cares, no questions about babies or marriage, we work. Ryan knows and understands my schedule, my commitment to work. It’s hard for others to be patient through these early years. My stomach twists at the thought of even for one second doubting this relationship. Then, in the very next breath, the butterflies flutter as I get a glimpse of Joe. I lick my dry lips and swallow.
“What else is on your bucket list?”
Rebecca wraps her arms around Joe’s neck and kisses him. Their reflection glistens over the sparkling water of the looking pond where Bradley proposed to Gabby. His hands slide down to rest on her hips. My chest tightens, my throat constricting at the thought of him one day proposing to her. To anyone.
“You have to think that hard about what you have left to do on your bucket list?”
I blink my eyes and shrug.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I don’t want to have this conversation right now or right here.”
He stops, thus halting me, and pulls me into his arms. He leans his forehead on mine. “Don’t overthink the car conversation. I didn’t say I never wanted kids or marriage. I just said not now.”
“I know what you said. You’re the one who
“Are you?”
“You see what I want you to see. Sound familiar?”
“You want me to see you’re not a playboy? You want me to see you have a girlfriend? You want me to see you play mind games?”
He smirks. “Maybe all of the above.” He arches an eyebrow. “Maybe not the last one, or maybe none at all.” He sniffs, and my eyes are drawn to the point of his red nose. It’s perfect. Just like his eyes, his rosy cheeks, the stubble…his lips. “Would any of those make a difference?”
“Sure is taking them forever to go to the bathroom.”
“So good at evading questions that require emotional output. Don’t draw the walls of your little dungeon back up. Don’t punt the ball yet. Do you still think your psychological profile—er, assessment of the brothers is correct? That Ryan is the one who wants to settle, and I’m the one who’s”—he does air quotes with his free hand—“dangerous? What was the other word you used?”
My eyes narrow. Every part of my being wants to tell him it was completely accurate, and that everything is going just how I envisioned it.
“Or are you struggling with the pangs of jealousy I swear I saw course through your body the moment you saw Rebecca at my side? Has the grass suddenly become a tad bit greener for you?”
My lips part, but words refuse to form.
He rolls his eyes. “I really am sorry about Gabe. Enjoy your evening with my brother.”
Rebecca and Gabby exit the old building laughing, and Joe tilts his head. My eyes search his in an effort to understand what just happened. As if I wasn’t confused before, it’s like my head has been tossed around in a washing machine, put on a needle, and someone tipped it into a never-ending spin.
I drag in a deep breath, feeling the cold all the way to the base of my lungs. With each step Joe takes away from me, the walls of my fortress crack.
Let It Snow plays on the speakers as Ryan joins me at my side, a smirk on his face, and rubbing his hands together. “So where do you wanna go first?”
I point to the table of complimentary refreshments. “You don’t want anything?”
“Nah, maybe when we get back.”
“Have you heard Darius Rucker’s version of this song?” I ask, as I mouth the lyrics.
He takes my hand and tucks it in the crook of his arm. “You know there’s not been much time for listening to anything other than pulses, breath, and bowel sounds.” He leads us out of the congested area and onto one of the lighted paths, and I toss the remainder of my hot chocolate into the trash. “Left or straight?”
“Left. I love Darius Rucker. He’s a Charleston boy.”
“Have you ever seen him live?”
“No, but it’s on my bucket list. Hint, hint.” I giggle. This is easy. When it’s just us, no worries, no cares, no questions about babies or marriage, we work. Ryan knows and understands my schedule, my commitment to work. It’s hard for others to be patient through these early years. My stomach twists at the thought of even for one second doubting this relationship. Then, in the very next breath, the butterflies flutter as I get a glimpse of Joe. I lick my dry lips and swallow.
“What else is on your bucket list?”
Rebecca wraps her arms around Joe’s neck and kisses him. Their reflection glistens over the sparkling water of the looking pond where Bradley proposed to Gabby. His hands slide down to rest on her hips. My chest tightens, my throat constricting at the thought of him one day proposing to her. To anyone.
“You have to think that hard about what you have left to do on your bucket list?”
I blink my eyes and shrug.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I don’t want to have this conversation right now or right here.”
He stops, thus halting me, and pulls me into his arms. He leans his forehead on mine. “Don’t overthink the car conversation. I didn’t say I never wanted kids or marriage. I just said not now.”
“I know what you said. You’re the one who
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