“They’re my friends, so…” She forked a bite of pancake and shoved it in her mouth.
He focused on her and only her, like he used to long ago. Long before they’d gotten so comfortable with each other. Dated. Fallen in love. Planned a wedding.
“I’ll get my bag and get out of here,” he said only to her.
He was getting his bag? She choked on the soft cake. A little kernel of hope grew in her chest that she wouldn’t have to be the one to leave after all.
“You’re moving out?” That would be fantastic. Her Gucci collection was so much happier with tons of breathing room in her walk-in closet instead of crammed together in a box. “That’s great that you’re leaving. I mean, not great that you’re leaving.” She took a breath. “It’s great that you’re being reasonable about this and letting me have the house.”
He didn’t say anything.
No one else said anything.
“You are leaving, right?”
“Maybe we should do this where there’s not an audience,” he said in response to her question, as though that were actually an answer.
“I think an audience is great.” Eli crossed his arms, sunflower-yellow spatula in hand. If anyone could pull off that look, he could. “Witnesses and all that.”
Marlee may not have been on her A-game all morning. Heck, she hadn’t even been on her D-game. But the way Eli held the spatula right then made her feel like she’d had mimosas with the pancakes instead of coffee. She was nearly positive that one could not get drunk off one bite of Eli’s pancakes.
“You’re moving out then?” Marlee asked again, the hope of before eroding away.
Scotty deeply exhaled through his nose. “I figured I’d take off for a little bit. We’ll both get our bearings before any more big decisions are made.”
Decisions like who got the house?
Eli made a noise that sounded like a half growl.
“You mean you don’t want to be in town when people start calling,” Marlee confirmed. He would leave that to her. Of course, he would. She’d always handled things like that.
Scotty pinched the bridge of his nose. “I figured I’d give you some space. I know this”—he gestured between them and to her friends—“wasn’t expected.”
“So…not moving out.” You didn’t live with someone for a decade and not know how they handled things. Scotty wouldn’t move out. Scotty would continue to rely on her parents. Scotty wouldn’t understand that there was something wrong with that.
“Of course, I’m not moving, this is my home. We went over this earlier on the patio.”
“Where are you goin’?” Eli asked like that was the most important question. “Is it a trip?”
“Yeah, Scotty, whereareyou going?” Kellie moved in to flank Marlee on the right. Sadie was on her left. Becca right behind. And Eli? A vein in his forehead pulsed in a way that probably wasn’t super healthy.
“We’re all so curious,” Becca said over a mouthful of bacon. Scotty hated it when people talked with their mouth full. Total pet peeve.
“Leelee.” Scotty tilted his head toward his office-turned-bedroom. “A minute.”
“Don’t do it, Marlee.” Sadie linked her arm with Marlee’s. “He can say, right here, where he’s going.”
Scotty looked between all of them and then at Lothario, who currently ignored him and, instead, eyeballed Eli’s shoe. “Your parents offered me their condo in St. Lucia.”
Another knife pierced her heart. “You mean the one where we were going to spend our honeymoon?”
He pinched his lips together. “It’s not like that.”
“That’s a little cliché, Scotty.” Becca had swallowed the bacon. “Even for you.”
Scotty opened his mouth to reply. Then he shut it without a word coming out.
“By ‘offered,’ you mean you asked them if you could stay there?” It wasn’t like Marlee didn’t know how Scotty worked. And she knew her parents even better. Scotty had gone to their place, told them he’d broken it off, and asked if he could use their condo. They’d said yes, so he’d grabbed a venti caramel latte from Starbucks, drank it on the café patio, and then returned home in time for the impromptu pancake party.
