“Good,” Mack grunts.
“The limo will be here in twenty minutes.”
Mack nods. “Cool.” Then he grabs my brother and hugs him. Likereallyhugs him. It’s not one of those fast bro hugs or a pat on the back. It's a moment between two friends, and it’s genuine.
I didn’t think Mack was a hugger, honestly, but I can’t help the smile that forms as I watch them, but maybe I’m a little jealous too.
I don’t get along with most guys. Sure I have guy friends, and I guess I sort of consider my former teammates my friends, but there is no one other than Britt that I’m close with. Who really knowme.Who have seen my dumpster fire and hang around anyway.
Austen brings his arms up and hugs him back, relaxing just a little. Even when he was a kid, a good hug always seemed to help him. Especially when he was upset.
Me?
Every time I sought out some love and affection, I was being too needy, too clingy, too touchy.
Know your boundaries, Alex.
I guess that’s just the way it goes when you're the oldest. Baby brothers get all the love and attention. Older brothers get expectations and conformity because we’re supposed to be agood example.
Like just me being an affectionate person or a loud person, or a person with a million ideas and tangents, makes me a bad example.
Oh well, at least I have hockey. That’s the one place my asshole parents actually give a shit.
When they break apart, Austen’s gaze catches mine .
“Please tell me you bought—”“Chocolate iced with sprinkles, right here with your name on it,” I say with a grin as I push the box towards him.
His smileisgenuine this time as he makes a beeline for the box.
“The fuck is up with you guys and sprinkles?” Mack mutters.
“You are a lifesaver, Alex.”
It’s my turn to smile.
“Yes, well, when you’re late for a very important date, you must always show up with sugar. People are less likely to hate you when you bring them shit to apologize with.”
I grab an iced coffee and slide it towards him as he takes a bite of his donut.
When I look up, I see Mack standing in the doorway watching us.
For a moment, I let myself meet his gaze and I hold it like a challenge. He scoffs, shaking his head and then gives us his back as he heads out the door.
“Hey,” I say as my brother is halfway through his donut. He looks up at me, and it feels like I’m twelve all over again. Because he looks at me like maybe somehow I’ve got the knowledge he needs, like I’ll have the answers to how things are going to work out.
Spoiler alert: I don’t know shit. I’m just trying to stay out of the lava pits of life.
I have had six failed relationships. My parents hate me. The one guy I actually like hates me because we got drunk and messed around, and my little brother is about to get married while I’m destined to be some slapshot bachelor for the rest of my damn life, and I am an asshole through and through.
But for the moment, I try to forget about that. Instead, I take a deep breath, and I say exactly what I wouldwant to hear if it were me nervous about what was to come.
“It’s… it’s okay to be nervous. It’s a big day.”
“I’m not nervous,” he says plainly, but I see his jaw tense.
“Just… look at her. When you’re freaking out, wondering what the hell you’re doing, or what you’re supposed to do, look at Savannah.” I sigh. “No one else matters but her because you love her. And all this shit—” I motion to open bottles of champagne, the boxes of donuts, out the door with the crowd of people. “All of this shit doesn’t matter. It’s just static.”
I point to his heart, and he looks down. I can’t resist dragging my finger up and booping him on the nose. He laughs. A real laugh, not a fake one like he does with everyone else.
