Although, nonverbal communication is always a personal favorite of mine. Less people skills involved. That really speaks to me.
“Of course I can. I’m excellent at reading people.”
My jaw might unhinge at that. “Please be joking.”
“Eh. At least about this. If I’ve met her, it hasn’t been someone I’ve gone out with already.”
Blakely has abandoned us to conspire with Easton in the corner, something that has both of them looking at their hands while they talk. Once again, it’s just me and Brady arguing about some dumb shit because that’s our love language.
“Is there someone you’re thinking about right now? Because it sounds like you’re not saying something here.”
He busies himself stirring pasta in the pot, and I try like hell to read the line in his shoulders. “No. But I’ve met a lot of women in a non-romantic setting and it would be kind of insane to say for certain that one of them is impossible. All I’m saying is, it’s not someone I’ve gone out with before.”
Well, okay then. “I’m sorry you’re feeling left out without your person. For what it’s worth, I was very serious when I said I don’t want you to fade off now that me and Easton are finding our footing. You always belong where I am. I wouldn’t have him if you didn’t come first. That’s worth a lot to me.”
He smiles over his shoulder, and for the first time since everything went to hell, it feels real. He and I will be okay again once I sort through the dozens of weird emotions popping up for me. I won’t let this continue. If Easton can drag me back, I can do the same for my best friend.
CHAPTER 15
EASTON
Not that it’s a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but it’s been a very weird day, and this wasn’t on my bingo card. It’s so minor, just a little nail polish, but also a huge “fuck you” to my parents. I never turn down an opportunity to further disappoint them, even if they’ll never know about it. Blake gave me an out before she even agreed to the tech coming over, and I didn’t take it. Don’t want it, in all honesty. Still is pretty strange to try and wrap my head around, though.
Even when I was little, I couldn’t understand why something so simple was the hill to die on. I drew oneverythingas a kid. Very few things were safe from me, and my body was not included on that list. Why was coloring in my fingernails so inappropriate? It seemed like it went right along with the other doodles decorating my available skin.
But the one time I tried, Dad about blew the roof off the house. Probably one of my earliest core memories and a key event that made it clear I was safer hiding who I was from my parents. I never did it again after that first time, but I didn’t make peace with it either.
Then Blake said her nail girl was willing to come over after dinner if I wanted in. She probably didn’t even realize what she was offering; just being the kind friend that she is and wanting to include me in things.
But what an opportunity.
While everything else is so chaotic and unsure, it was an easy sell to stick it to my dad. If he hadn’t gotten our whole family in the church, we might still be together, and none of this would have happened. Sure, it’s a reach, but I’m in a mood.
So I said yes. Now, a girl is laying out a bunch of supplies in front of me and sweat is breaking out on the back of my neck for some reason. In my reading last night, I did a deep dive into clinical depression, which I’m pretty sure I have. Most likely not the only thing wrong with me, but it’s mixed into the cocktail.
But I need to look into what it is that makes my heartbeat go wild over the simplest of things and makes it so hard to breathe sometimes. It’ll make my brain worm happy. He still wants me searching, so I’ll keep going until he reveals whatever he’s keeping hidden from me.
“You wanna go first, lovebug?” my friend asks from beside me.
The girl glances up, curious who her first client will be. My lord, she’s got the most perfect eye makeup. It’s so dramatic and I’m sort of obsessed. “No, you can go. I’m still undecided.”
Blakely makes a small noise confirmation. “You don’t have to do something super wild if that’s not your vibe. Dasha can just paint them and put a good topcoat on.”
Dasha nods. “Yeah. No wrong choices here. Wanna see the polish colors I have?”
She passes me a little plastic board with a lot of different colors painted on it. I try not to make it obvious I’m floundering over here. “Thank you,” I say in a small voice.
Dasha grins, tossing me a quick wink before getting to work on Blake. “Oh, I don’t know if you saw but there was an envelope on your porch when I came in. I left it on the island.”
Blakely thanks her before asking Chase to see what it is. They’re hovering, Chase and my brother, like they don’t want to leave, but also have no interest in our current activity. Fair, but I think it would be cool if Brady got in on this at least. Maybe it’ll give Dad that one last big heart attack he’s been needing.
Was that too much? Oh well.
I’m methodical in my color analysis. How is one even supposed to pick one of these anyway? Is there some sort of system I’m not aware of? Like always, when I’m teetering on the edge, I look to Chase.
His eyes find mine easily, tethered by the invisible string that ties me to him. “What’s wrong?” he mouths.
I hold up the damn board in response which makes the corners of his mouth tick up adorably. Thankfully, he takes mercy on me and comes over to help. I pass him the cursed thing, barely resisting the urge to throw it. Blake and Dasha are talking animately, which gives me a little cover to solve this without bringing more attention to it.
