But then she used the word “jealous.” She seemed a little flustered, honestly. Maybe that just wasn’t the word she wanted. Maybe she just brought it up at all so she could let me know she’d moved on, dated other men, slept with them. I try not to grit my teeth thinking of it, but my blood heats at the memory of her saying it.
I knew it was wrong to feel jealous and possessive. It wasn’t my place to have that sort of feeling about her. But no matter how many times I’d rationalized over it, it remained. I wanted to pull her into my lap and snap at anyone who looked in her direction.
But I shouldn’t. We’ve outgrown each other, or maybe at least the desperate way we used to need each other.
I’m sitting on the front porch, watching the sun sink lower when I hear raps on the window from inside. I turn around and there’s Aiden, bent over to see under the half-curtain, his face nearly pressed to the pane.
“You wanna go down to the Thirsty Turtle?” he shouts, his breath fogging up the glass.
There’s really only one bar in town. I’ve been there enough to know they have one kind of beer, whatever they get from Aconite Ales, and if they’re feeling fancy, both red and white wine.
I stare at him for a good long moment, wondering why he didn’t just open the window when he starts to repeat himself, louder through the glass.
I wave him off.
“Logan deserves a bachelor party, doesn’t he?” Aiden tries again, and I can see the rigid frame of our middlest brother pacing in the background.
“You’re really going with that?”
“I don’t want a bachelor party,” Logan calls, in case he thinks it looks like this was at all approved by him.
“Come onnnn,” Aiden groans, then squishes his face more against the window. “When’s the last time all of us got any real quality time together?”
He’s got me there. I haven’t been back here in so long, and maybe they’ve visited me separately every now and then, but it’sbeen years. Even these last couple days I’ve been, more or less, avoiding everyone just to keep from getting in more trouble.
The last time we were all in the same place, we were so much younger.
It aches in my chest how much is gone, the way back home with both of them.
I bend down to the bottom windowpane and breathe on the glass. I swipe a couple letters into the foggy pane before it fades.
“He says it’s on!”
“It’s backward, dumbass,” Logan mutters.
“Yeah, and he’s dyslexic. I’m getting the keys.”
Before I can call off Aiden’s plans, he’s stomping through the house away from me. Logan gives me a shrug and follows after him. Moments later, they both appear, Aiden leading the way.
“Dude, I gave you like ten whole minutes to get ready,” Aiden blatantly lies as he’s climbing into his Jeep. Logan, despite his earlier protests, follows him. Probably knows it’s best to just give in.
I stare at the two of them.
Either stay out of the house as much as I can, possibly meet my mate in town, or stay in the house to avoid figuring out who it is and having to bring her home, and be cooped up with Elise.
I really shouldn’t have come here.
I sigh and after a few moments, hop down from the porch and climb into the Jeep as well. Aiden whoops and revs the engine and takes off with a lurch that sends the St. Christopher’s medal hanging from his rearview mirror swinging.
The one and only local bar is the kind of establishment that has every wall covered in taxidermied hunting trophy birds, and, about four months too early for the season, they all have little, felted Santa hats. It’s macabre and charming, and a million things I forgot how much I missed. I had never really gotten a chance to say goodbye to this town. I take a deep breath, inhaling the musty old scent of the bar, the way it smells like the memory of home.
“Oh, hey, there’s Elise,” Aiden says, snapping my attention to him. My head whips around to where he’s staring, and sure enough, there she is. It’s the back of her head, the messy bun her hair is piled up in, but I’d know the tension in her shoulders anywhere.
“And Laura,” Logan points out and waves to catch her attention.
Shouldn’t have come here either.
Our cousin hears the sound of our voices through the crowd and stiffens from across the room. Unsubtly, she turns around and catches my eye, and waves us over with the fakest cheery expression I’ve ever seen.
