I wanted to leave so desperately. Just get up andgo.Nick meant well, that was plain to see, but I required more breathing room than this family allowed. They were all somuch.“I’ve been applying some new therapeutic approaches with children on the autism spectrum. Too early to draw any correlations.”
“All right,” Patrick said. He leaned forward and gestured toward me with his wineglass. “You’re obviously very intelligent. What the hell do you see in the runt?”
At first, I didn’t understand who Patrick was referring to, but then I heard Sam chuckling beside me.The runt.
“Don’t answer that,” Andy said, shaking her head. “What he meant to say was Lauren and I go to an incredible winter farmers’ market on Saturdays, and you should come with us this weekend.”
Please stop. I don’t belong anywhere near your little sister-wives group.
“Yeah, you have to come to yoga. Even if you hate yoga, this chick will make you love it,” Lauren added, pointing to Andy.
“Is that a requirement here?” I asked. “Compulsory vegetable shopping? Let me guess—matching Lululemon workout clothes, too? Is that the price of admission to the clubhouse?”
The table fell silent, and they couldn’t excuse that one as caustic humor. I was officially standing in epic, flaming bitch territory. They both stared at me, frowning, and then turned to each other with puzzled expressions. Sam edged my wineglass closer to me, a clear signal to drink up and shut up.
“When are you going to tell us about Scotland?” he asked, jutting his chin toward Patrick and Andy.
“You won. They’re not married,” Riley groaned.
“It was cold and wet and Scottish,” Patrick said. “Otherwise unremarkable, considering we spent the whole time digging up rocks.”
“You have an impressive ability to not enjoy things,” Matt said.
“Yeah, it’s mostly derived from living with you for the past three decades,” Patrick replied. “But I will say this—Scotland had decent scotch, and quite the healthy supply of it.”
The discussion moved into a review of their overseas journey, and the locations everyone wanted to visit. Nick talked about his interest in a Doctors Without Borders trip, and Matt mentioned his sister, Erin, and her extensive research travels, but Sam stayed quiet.
It was a nice reprieve from their prying questions, and I was able to sit back and breathe. I was horrified by the snarky things I’d said to Andy or Lauren, and I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with them. In this mood, I’d inadvertently maim them with my scowly faces.
They picked at the remaining tapas but soon turned their interest to dessert. Lauren attempted to distribute slices of pie, but the guys overrode her, and dug in with spoons. Knowing Sam’s preference for cleanliness—and his flippant comfort with discarding anything that didn’t look ‘right’—I expected him to recoil when the dishes came our way. Instead, he took a small bite from an untouched corner, and whispered to me, “I don’t know what you put in there, but I’m a fan.”
“That’s high praise considering you primarily eat raw nuts and greens,” I said.
He offered a chastened grin, and said, “I know what I like.”
Riley growled, a sound vaguely similar to the one I’d heard from Sam on many occasions, but from Riley it was cartoon comical. The top four buttons of his shirt gaped open, and he slipped his hand inside to scratch his sternum. He looked around the table and said, “I feel like doing something irresponsible tonight.” His gaze landed on Nick. “Come on, Acevedo. Let’s have an adventure.”
“You should know,” Matt laughed. “Riley’s version of irresponsible adventure involves waking up in the bed of a truck on its way to Canada or getting his nipples pierced by a random guy in an alley.”
Riley rubbed his chest, frowning. “Those hurt, man. I still have scars, physicalandemotional.”
“He’s also been permanently barred from Howl At The Moon,” Patrick added. “Something about getting naked and dancing on a piano.”
“As if that wasn’t standard fare,” Riley muttered. “And if we’re airing all the dirty secrets, why don’t we talk about the party after Matt and Miss Honey’s wedding?”
“Nope.” Nick shook his head, his gaze never wandering from his glass. “Let me stop you right there.”
“Why?” Matt asked. He looked between Sam, Riley, and Nick. “What happened?”
Riley stared at Nick, smirking. A silent exchange of severe expressions, raised eyebrows, and head shakes occurred while the group watched, then finally Riley laughed. “Nothing,” he said, spooning another bite of pumpkin pie. “Acevedo knows how to have a good time. Not surprising for the good doctor.”
I was missing a ton of subtext here, but from the looks of it, I wasn’t the only one. Matt and Lauren were reminiscing in hushed tones about their nuptials while Patrick leaned toward Andy, brushed her hair from her shoulder, and whispered something against her ear. Everyone seemed genuinely nice—or, nice in the ‘we’re family so we talk a lot of shit’ way—and amusing, but it was impossible to keep up with it all. There was so much history simmering between these people, entire lifetimes that I’d never fully understand.
Nick and Riley started planning their night out, and I could not have given Sam more insistent glances if my eyeballs popped out of my skull and pounded on his chest. I’d been outrageously impolite and I wasn’t comfortable being grilled by his family, and I just wanted to leave.
We eventually made it out of their loft, but not without a carousel of hugs and swapped phone numbers, and the same incessant request to spend more time getting to know me.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked once the elevator doors closed. He pulled me tight to his chest, his forehead crinkled with confusion. “You didnotseem okay in there.”
