He drew a smiley face on it. Indeed it was the best sleep I’ve had in . . . seven months. Before I dozed off I thought I heard him mumble “I love you”, but I was so comatose I can’t be sure. Maybe I imagined it. I do remember he said he’d gone to therapy.Lots of therapy.I place the note back on the nightstand and tap my phone screen. 8:30 a.m. I’m not sure the last time I slept so late—even on a weekend. One thing hasn’t changed: we still sleep better together. My smile takes over my face as I pull my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on them. We’ve resolved nothing, talked about nothing.You’re going to make a helluva therapist, Everly. My slogan can be ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’I attemptto squash my thoughts and relish in the afterglow of last night. Not the most functional start but a start nonetheless. I let myself feel hopeful.
“Knock, knock.” The singsong voice filters down the hall.
I jump from the sheets and yank clothes from dresser drawers. I rip Julian’s shirt off my head and toss it on the bed before I spread the duvet over the mattress. I tell myself that I’m not hiding evidence. I’m an adult. I do what I want.
As I pull the tank top down over my head and squirm my arms through the armholes, my door cracks open and Tatum pokes her head through the opening. “You awake, sleeping beauty?”
“Just. What are you guys doing here so early?”
“Perfect sets rollin’ in right in your backyard. Don’t worry. We brought breakfast.” She starts to retreat but stops and studies me for a moment.
I turn my back on her under the guise of getting my swimsuit out of my drawer. “Guess I’ll need to change then.”
“Okay.” Her response is slow, pondering. Then she adds, “Bagel or donut hole?”
“It feels like a why choose kinda morning.” I strip off the tank and my thong as she closes the door with ahmph. I don the swimsuit I snag off the top of the pile, blue—like his eyes.I snag my romper from yesterday off the floor and step into it as I step into the hall.
The guest bedroom door opens and Seth walks out shirtless, yawning and scratching his chest. His dark hair stands up in wild tufts. He turns a lazy smile on me and drops his arm on my shoulders.
“What’s good, beautiful?”
“Waves are hitting apparently. Get dressed. Wake them up. Also, we’ve got company.”
“And breakfast,” Lennon calls from the kitchen.
“Sick. Okay, five minutes.” Seth does an about-face and walks back into the guest room. True to his word, he’s in the kitchen in five minutes, Noah and Lilly trailing behind him, sleepy but awake and dressed to surf.
“Tatum, Lennon, this is Lilly, Noah and Seth.”
“Feels like we already know you,” Lennon gushes. “So cool to finally meet you guys face-to-face. Ready to hit the beach? It’s cookin’ right now.”
“Bet,” Noah replies, popping another donut hole in his mouth.
“Who wants coffee?” Tatum starts passing out cardboard cups.
Everyone’s hands shoot in the air.
“They’re black because I didn’t know what you liked, so you have to doctor them yourselves. Except yours, Ever.”
“Vanilla Cold Foam?” I reach my hand out.
“Of course.” She passes the drink to me.
Before we hit the beach, I text Allie to make sure she doesn’t need any help.
Allie:That’s what party planners are for. Have fun. Be ready by noon.
Me:Cool. Thanks.
Waiting for our set, Tatum floats next to me. I saw it on her face this morning just like I do now. My stay of execution is over. Here comes the grill. “You look different. Did you see him?”
I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Yeah, last night on the beach.”
“Anyone that makes you smile like that deserves a seat at the table or at least a conversation.”
“That’s the problem. We can’t seem to keep our hands off each other long enough to have a conversation.”
“Good problem to have, no? We should all be so lucky.”
