She looks back over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Rhonan. Enjoy your night with your friends.”
My eyes trail her as she gets further away from us, but my sister shoves my shoulder. “God, you’re stupid.”
“What? What the fuck did I do?”
“The woman is new to town, and instead of trying to be kind, you’re acting like she has a contagious disease or something.”
“No, I’m not. I just don’t want any lines to get blurred.”
Dilynne laughs. “Sounds like those lines were blurred two weeks ago, Rhonan. And not that I need to say this out loud, but that woman is hot.”
Trust me, I fucking know it.
“She’s Ellis’s teacher.”
“Yeah, but only for a little while,” Elodie chimes in. “And sorry to point this out, but you could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife.”
Henley taps the table in front of him. “I told him to ask her out on a date.”
“I’m not asking her out on a date.”
“Why not?” my sister asks. “You clearly liked her enough to spend all night talking to her before she left—”
“That’s enough,” I say, cutting her off. Standing from the table, I rest my palms on the wood and flash my strongest glare among my friends. “Look, I don’t need a group vote on my love life. I’m a fucking adult who can make my own decisions, thank you very much. Now, can we get back to the reason we’re all here, the wedding? Otherwise,I’m going home.”
Everyone shares a look before Laney finally nods. “Fine.” She glares at me every now and again as we discuss dresses and tux fittings, speeches, and other details for the day my sister becomes Mrs. Fletcher Adams.
I nod along where I’m supposed to, but inside, I’m fuming while also trying to remember that my sister doesn’t mean any harm.
But not everyone gets a happy ending, including her older brother, a fact I’m becoming more aware of as the people around me fall into theirs.
She’s going to have to accept it.
So am I.
Chapter 7
Vienna
Fence Conversations & A Shower Attack
All I can hear is the sound of crickets chirping and the slight breeze moving through the trees as I sit on my back patio, savoring the cabernet I picked up at Hart Winery last night. Roscoe is prancing around the backyard chasing fireflies, and for the first time in years, I feel grounded, even though there are definitely details of this new version of my life I wasn’t anticipating.
My eyes drift over to my neighbor’s backyard, and suddenly my heart rate picks up speed. I knew after this past week that seeing Rhonan wouldn’t be easy and that avoiding him wouldn’t be possible, but I didn’t expect our interactions to be so cold.
When he dropped off Ellis at school, his face remained so stoic that it was hard to read. And then last night, when I walked into the tasting room at Hart Winery and saw him with his friends and family, I could tell he didn’t want me there.
I wish I could go back to that fateful night and choose differently.
No, you don’t, Vienna. Don’t lie to yourself.
Sighing, I relent to my subconscious thoughts. I don’t regret that night, not one bit. I just wish the aftermath of it had turned out differently. I let my fear win, and now I’m dealing with the consequences of my actions.
Scratching from the wooden fence catches my attention. Roscoe’s digging in the dirt, trying to get to the other side.
“Roscoe! No!”
He looks back at me, we make eye contact, and then he turns right back to his task.
