“Let me give you a lift home,” I offered, shoving my traitorous hands in the pockets of my jeans and stepping back, giving her some space. Giving me space.
“It’s okay, I already texted Tessa. She’ll be here any minute. We’re supposed to start making the centerpieces tonight.” Elle was avoiding my eyes, throwing up the walls I’d so carefully broken down.
I nodded, my hands still in my pockets, and dropped my gaze. I just so happened to end up staring at the barrow full of beer. I swallowed again, my mouth as dry as the desert sand.
“Braden…will you be okay tonight?” she added, her hand touching the skin on my forearm gently.
I looked up at her, shocked that she had initiated this touch. Her eyes were full of concern. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” I told her as Brock’s truck pulled up.
“Well, if you look inside the red cooler, I got you several alcohol free beers.” Elle told me, gesturing with her head towards the red cooler.
“Alcohol free?” my eyebrows shot up.
“Tastes like real beer, looks like real beer, has zero alcohol to it. It will give your hands something to do, while everyone else is drinking,” Elle swallowed, pasting a smile on. “And…I’ll just be a phone call away...if you need an escape or something…okay?”
Elle’s gesture made my heart swell to epic proportions. I honestly thought the damn thing was going to explode in my chest. She sent me a wistful look before she turned around and started walking to the truck. She paused when she reached it to say something to Brock. Turning her head to look at me once more, she gave me the smallest smile before climbing into the cab. Brock closed the door behind her and watched as Tessa waved and backed up, turning around and driving back up the private access road.
My brother started walking over to me, running a hand through his hair. “Looks great, Braden,” he said, his eyes appraising the setup.
“Elle did most of it, I just followed instructions,” I shrugged, grinning.
“Did you really con her into helping you today?” Brock’s eyebrows lifted and he smirked, shaking his head at me.
“Not really,” I replied. I felt at odds with myself—with everything. Normally, we’d be shooting the shit while drinking a cold beer. My fingers twitched in my pocket. I eased up when I remembered my own stockpile. “Ask and ye shall receive and all that.”
The sound of tires crunching on the gravel had both Brock and me looking back towards the access road. Gordon’s black F150 pulled into view. He parked haphazardly and driver’s door opened. Gordon stood up, hanging on to the roof of the cab. “Hey fuckers!” he called out to us. “Ready for a night of boozing and fishing?”
The rest of Tessa’s brothers—Tommy and Ben—climbed out of the cab, cases of beer in hand. “Just in case we run out,” Tommy grinned, setting the cases down beside the beer barrow.
“Wow, this is fancy as fuck,” Gordon added with a whistle as he checked out his surroundings and cracked open a beer. The other guys grabbed beers too, and I crossed over to the red cooler to grab one of my own—alcohol free.
Brock stormed over to me. “What the hell is that?” he demanded quietly, his eyes hard as he nodded his head towards the beer in my hand.
“Chill out,” I frowned, irritated. “They’re alcohol free. Elle grabbed them for me.” Brock visibly relaxed as I took a tentative sip, expecting it to taste like absolute shit but it wasn’t half bad.
“Sounds fruity,” Tommy joked.
“Don’t forget Tommy, I can still kick your ass,” I told him through narrowed eyes.
He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m just playing, man. Seriously. I’m proud of you,” he told me sincerely.
Grady and Steve showed up ten minutes later, and then a silver Lexus RX Hybrid pulled up. “Who’s that?” I asked Brock.
“Must be Grayson,” Brock shrugged. He started walking over to the Lexus to greet his friend while I hung back and worked on getting the fire started. Several minutes later, Brock returned with his friend in tow. “Guys, this is Grayson,” he said. “Grayson, this is Tommy, Gordon, Ben, Grady, and my brother Braden.”
“Hey,” Grayson said, nodding at us. Brock grabbed a beer and handed it to him.
True to his nature, Travis was the last to arrive—about an hour into the party. He pulled up in a red Mercedes.
“Way to be inconspicuous,” I shook my head.
“Thisisinconspicuous,” Travis shrugged with a playful grin, unaffected by my razzing. “I could have driven the Porsche.”
Gordon threw his arm across Travis’s shoulders. “Where are your body guards tonight?” he asked, just to provoke him.
“Not here. I figured we were far enough out in the middle of nowhere that nobody would come across us.”
“Fair enough, besides—they’rekind ofbuzzkills,” Gordon snorted, tossing back the rest of his beer.
