She giggles. “I still can’t believe that happened.”
The doorbell rings and Cricket’s face lights up. “That’s him.”
My stomach clenches for reasons I don’t want to examine. “I’ll get it,” I say, jumping up before she can protest. I run up the stairs.
I open the door to find River standing there in dark jeans and a button-down shirt, holding a small bouquet of flowers. He looks… annoyingly perfect. His hair is styled just right, his smile is confident but not cocky, and he actually brought flowers. Of course he did.
“Hey, Micah,” he says with that easy charm. “Is Cricket ready?”
“Almost.” I step aside to let him in then immediately regret it. Now he’s in Cricket’s house, looking comfortableand at home. “Nice flowers,” I add, though it comes out more sarcastic than I intended.
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what her favorites were, so I went with daisies. They seemed… Cricket-like, you know?”
Actually, he’s right. Daisies are perfect for Cricket. They’re simple, cheerful, and natural. The fact that he picked up on that after knowing her for two days irritates me more than it should.
Cricket appears, and River’s whole face changes. His smile gets softer, more genuine, and his eyes follow her as she enters the room.
“You look beautiful,” he tells her, handing her the flowers.
She blushes and buries her nose in them. “Thank you. They’re perfect.” She takes them into the kitchen to get a vase.
I clear my throat. “So, where are you taking her?”
River glances at me, probably picking up on the edge in my voice. “I thought we’d grab dinner at that new Italian place downtown then maybe walk around the harbor if the weather holds.”
It sounds… nice. Romantic, even. Exactly the kind of date Cricket will love. Cricket comes back into the room.
“Sounds good,” I say, though my jaw feels tight. “Just, uh…” I look between River and Cricket, suddenly feeling awkward. “Be a gentleman, okay?”
River’s eyebrows rise slightly, and Cricket stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Micah,” she says, her voice carrying a warning.
“I mean it,” I continue, even though I know I should stop talking. “She’s… she’s important to me. So… treat her right.”
River nods seriously. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”
There’s something in his tone that makes me feel like an idiot. Like I’m the overprotective brother who doesn’t trustanyone with his sister. Except Cricket isn’t my sister, and I have no right to be giving River lectures about how to treat her.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to… I just…”
“It’s okay,” River says, and he actually looks like he means it. “I get it. You care about her. That’s what good friends do.”
Cricket grabs her jacket from the closet. “We should go.”
“Right.” River offers her his arm.
She takes it, and they head toward the door. “I’ll text you later,” she calls over her shoulder to me.
“Have fun,” I manage to say, though it feels like the words are being dragged out of me.
The door closes behind them, and suddenly, the house feels enormous and empty. I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, trying to figure out why I feel like I just lost something important.
I shake it off and head back to the basement, then I pull out my guitar and the notebook where I’ve been working on a new song. I’ve had this melody stuck in my head for days, but I can’t seem to find the right words to go with it.
I strum a few chords then scribble down a line:She’s got a smile that lights up the room…
No, that’s terrible. Too cliché. I cross it out and try again.
