Garrett ignores her comment entirely. “I was just telling Dylan about my new position at iTech. We’re developing an algorithm that’s going to revolutionize how social media platforms target advertising.”
And just like that, he’s off. I’ve heard this speech so many times I could recite it in my sleep. The groundbreaking technology. The genius team he’s leading. The millions they stand to make. I watch Cam’s eyes glaze over slightly as Garrett explains technical details no one asked to hear.
“...which is why they fast-tracked my promotion,” Garrett continues. “I’m the youngest team lead in my company’s history. My boss says I’m on the executive track now.”
“That’s impressive,” Nila says politely during a rare pause in Garrett’s monologue.
“It is,” Garrett agrees. “All part of the five-year plan. Career first, then maybe I’ll finally get around to making things official with this one.” He squeezes my shoulder. “If she can learn to be a bit more serious, of course.”
My cheeks burn. Four years together, and he’s still dangling the possibility of “maybe someday” in front of me like I’m a dog chasing a treat. And now he’s doing it publicly, which is new and somehow worse.
“I’m plenty serious,” I say lightly. “Just not all the time. Life’s too short.”
“Yeah, well, adult relationships require maturity, not pranks and jokes.” Garrett says.
I look away, focusing on the pool to avoid Cam and Nila’s pitying expressions. This is just how Garrett is, I remind myself. Ambitious. Focused. He knows what he wants from life and isn’t afraid to push for it. That’s what attracted me to him in the first place, right? That confidence. That certainty.
Sure, Garrett’s notperfect—he can be a little judgmental at times ... maybe even self-absorbed—but he cares about me. We’ve been together for years, even with the occasional break when things get rocky. The Halloween break-up last month lasted all of two weeks before he showed up at my door with flowers.
We have high highs and low lows. It’s just how we work. It’s normal. Or at least ... I think it is. Hard to know for sure since I grew up with a single mom who worked double shifts and a “dad” who was nothing more than a name on my birth certificate—a ghost of mom’s past who vanished before I took my first breath. I’ve never had a blueprint for relationships.
“I think everyone needs a little humor in their lives,” Cam says, his voice carrying an unexpected edge. “Especially adults. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
Garrett just shrugs, his eyes already scanning the patio for more valuable connections. He turns away mid-conversation,drifting toward a cluster of men in expensive watches and tailored blazers. I watch his practiced smile appear—the one he reserves for people he thinks can expand his career—as he extends his hand to someone I don’t recognize.
I exhale slowly, my shoulders dropping a full inch as the knot in my stomach loosens for the first time since we came out to the patio. I catch Nila’s eye. She’s watching me kindly, not with pity but with genuine curiosity.
“So, Cheyenne,” she says, “what do you do for work?”
“Oh, I’m a market research analyst.” I glance at Garrett, half-expecting him to reappear and correct me. “For a big marketing firm.”
Nila’s eyebrows lift. “That’s cool! What kind of research do you do?”
“Mostly brand analytics. Consumer behavior and trend projection.” I give a little shrug, trying to sound breezy. “It’s a lot of spreadsheets and focus groups. Sometimes we get to try out beta products before anyone else, which is ... fun, I guess.”
“Sounds like a good gig,” Cam says.
“I mean, it’s not exactly saving lives. But it pays the bills, and I get to be creative now and then...”
Before I can continue any small talk, the patio door slides open and Dylan steps out, balancing a tray of drinks with ease. His tall frame exudes the effortless confidence of an athlete as he weaves through the scattered guests. When he spots us, hislips break into that familiar troublemaker smile that instantly lightens the mood.
“I see you’ve been enjoying the company of the grumpiest man on the team,” Dylan calls out, nodding toward Cam. “Don’t let him fool you, though. He’s actually a teddy bear.”
“Shut up, Williamston,” Cam growls, but there’s no heat behind it.
Dylan sets the tray down on a nearby table and slides in beside me. “I brought reinforcements,” he says, handing me a drink that I know without asking is a gin and tonic with extra lime—just the way I like it.
“You remembered!” I exclaim.
“Of course I did. It’s the same thing you’ve been drinking since you snuck into my parents’ liquor cabinet at seventeen.”
I gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t you dare tell that story! Your mom still thinks I’m a perfect angel.”
“She also thinks I didn’t know about the time you and Genna borrowed her car to drive to that concert downtown, so maybe her judgment isn’t the best.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“You’re lucky I covered for you two troublemakers.” Dylan’s eyes dance with mischief as he takes a step closer to the pool. He glances back at me. “You know, Chey, I know it’s November, but that pool is heated...”
