I’m not sure why she seems surprised. “Of course I remember, you just told me like three minutes ago. Plus, it’s not every day my closest friend’s own sister passes over both of us to choose someone else as her favorite athlete,” I tease.
“Just don’t ask me to pick a favorite baseball player.” She nudges my shoulder again before plucking more fries out of the bag, and a tiny jolt of adrenaline runs through me at the contact. “You might not like the answer. Miller sibling loyalties run deep. I’m contractually obligated to say it’s Mike,” Shelley jokes back.
“I see how it is.” I grab the bag from her and jog around to my side of the car. “See if you get these back now.”
She laughs that deep belly laugh again, and it lights her up from the inside, turning her into a beam of magnetic sunshine. As she slides into her seat, her bike shorts roll up a bit higher on her thigh, and I look away quickly so she doesn’t get the wrong impression. Shelley pretends to pout and turns to me with wide, exaggerated eye contact while she points toward the bag in my lap. I cave immediately, handing the food back to her. I know I’m in trouble when the thought hits that I should’ve made her come over here to get the bag for herself. It’s been a long time since anyone had me thinking this way.
“Haha. Sucker.” She snorts.
I roll my eyes. “Just don’t get ketchup on the seats.”
“Yes, sir.” She’s kidding, but my body doesn’t know that, and with two little words she reignites a spark that’s been dormant for years. Too bad I’m not going to do anything about it.
Chapter 6
Shelley
Between attending classes and squeezing in medical appointments this semester, I almost forgot what it feels like to have fun. I don’t know why I was so nervous about today. Being with Jordan is easy. It’s one of the things I like best about him. He has this welcoming energy that invites people to be authentic and have a good time when he’s around.
Of course he doesn’t bring up my littleissue,because why would he? Instead, we ride to North Bay with the warm fries sitting on the center console between us, sharing lunch and talking about whatever random things cross our minds.
As we barrel down the highway, Jordan keeps his eyes on the road as he reaches over for the bag, but he misses by an inch and ends up grabbing my hand instead.
“Oh, sorry.” He pulls away quickly.
“No problem. I believe you were looking for this?” I hand him a fry. As he eats it, I may or may not be watching his jaw work out of the corner of my eye, even after I turn to face forward again. We make easy conversation and the time flies by. Before I know it, we’re pulling into his apartment complex.
Jordan carries my bag and leads the way upstairs. But as soon as we step over the threshold into his apartment, the vibe changes because neither of us knows how we are supposed to act now that we’re alone together for the night.
“Uh, Mike’s old bed is still set up in his room for you. Jake won’t be moving the rest of his furniture here for a few days,” he tells me, handing me my suitcase with a stiff outstretched arm, like I’ve suddenly developed cooties and an extra head, and he doesn’t want to get too close.
“Oh. Okay. Great. Thanks.”
“Uh-huh.”
Silence floats between us. If this were an old Western movie, a tumbleweed would roll by. Hello, awkward, my old friend, I was wondering when you’d show up today.
“I guess I’ll just…” I point down the hall and show myself to my brother’s almost-completely-empty room. A few boxes, which I assume belong to Jake, are piled in the corner. All of Mike’s clothes and other belongings have already been moved. The biggest thing left in this room is the bed, still made up with my brother’s sheets and comforter, which thankfully, at least smell like he washed them recently.
I set my stuff down on the floor and sit on the edge of the mattress, already unsure what to do with myself. I feel like I’m invading Jordan’s space, and it’s only now occurring to me that I don’t belong here. Why didn’t I just book myself an extra night at the hotel? I mean, sure, my credit cards are already full of doctor co-pay charges, school supplies, and food costs, but I could’ve made it work. The invitation to stay here tonight wasn’t really Mike’s to offer.
I’m kicking myself for not realizing it sooner and allowing Mike to put Jordan in this position. And me. My brother does that, though. He’s always trying to take care of people, and sometimes he oversteps. I’m glad he finally has his life together, but it’s hard not to let my old feelings of resentment creep back in when these things happen. It sure would’ve been nice to have that kind of brotherly love in my life back when I needed it, rather than now as an adult, when it feels overbearing.
The bedroom door is open, but Jordan still knocks on the frame when he approaches, holding up his phone in the other hand. Mike’s face looks back at me from the screen.
“Someone thought he needed to make sure I got you here safely,” Jordan explains.
Of course he did. Never mind the fact that I could’ve found my own way to an out-of-town wedding. I didn’t actually need Mike to get involved. It’s also a little annoying to feel like I’m just another item on his checklist, something else that needs to be managed this weekend.
I roll my eyes and plaster on an exaggerated smile. “Hi, Mikey. As you can see, your best man accomplished his task.” I gesture with one hand up and down my body to prove we arrived in one piece, but there’s a little bit more bite than necessary behind my response.
I blow out a breath.
I’m being too hard on my brother. It’s his wedding week.
Mike’s life was in complete shambles for so long back when he was using, and now he has a thing about making sure situations are under control and the people close to him are okay. Is that really so bad? I know I should try harder to understand, and Iamtrying. But, honestly, who does he think was managing everything with our little sisters back when Mom and Dad were dealing with his drama? Hint: it was me. Over-achieving eldest daughter at your service, everyone.
Still, I love him, and I know he means well.
