“Is ittoo late to start another movie?” I ask after Stella has freedherself and shoved Wesley a few steps back for goodmeasure.
“Noneof us have to get up early in the morning, right?” Wesleyasks.
“Nope.”With her back to us now, Stella gathers some of the dirty dishesscattered across the coffee table. “You two have the week off, andit’s not like I have a job to get up early for.”
Wesley’s smilefades. His gaze darts to me, and I give a helpless little shrug. Hefollows Stella to the kitchen and, this time when he hugs her,there’s no playfulness to it, only brotherly love and concern.Stella remains rigid for a few beats. I’m not sure whether she’sgoing to turn thorny, push him away, and tell him not to pity her,or accept the silent comfort Wesley is offering.
Thankfully, it’sthe latter. I’m overtaken by a case of the warm fuzzies as I watchthe siblings embrace. To give them some privacy, I sit on the couchand scroll through one of my streaming services. The low rumble ofWesley’s voice reaches my ears, although I can’t hear what he’ssaying. Knowing Wes, I imagine it’s something to bolster Stella’sconfidence, and perhaps a reminder of how strong she is and howmuch she’s loved.
Wesley returns tothe living room first, taking one of the armchairs beside the couchwhere I’m sitting. I can hear Stella moving around in the kitchenand then the sound of the microwave door opening and closing. Thescent of buttery popcorn fills the air a second before the telltaleseries of pops sound from the microwave.
“She’llbe okay,” Wesley says quietly. “Right now and ingeneral.”
I nod wordlessly.She will, I have no doubt about that.
Stella flops downon the couch beside me a few minutes later with a giant bowl ofpopcorn in her hands. She gives it to me while she scoots to thecenter cushion and takes the blanket from the back of the couch.After arranging the blanket over our laps, she holds up the end onher other side. “Get over here,” she says to Wesley.
Heobeys without question. Stella requests an autumn romcom, so Ichoose a mutual favorite,RunawayBride, and hit play. The three of us pickat the bowl of popcorn, our hands brushing regularly.
My eyes grow heavypartway through the movie. I let my eyes close for just aminute—I’ve seen this movie countless times anyway—and the nextthing I know, I’m waking up to a dark room. Movement catches my eyeas Wesley, who’s now standing, sets the remote on the coffeetable.
“Youboth fell asleep, so I was going to slip out,” he whispers. “Goback to sleep.”
I shake my head,disentangling myself from the blanket, and getting to my feet. Ifollow Wesley to the door, suppressing a series of yawns as I watchhim don his jacket and shoes.
“Tonight was fun,” I say when he straightens.
“Itwas.” His smile is soft and affectionate as he brushes a strand ofhair away from my face. His hand lingers for a moment beforedropping to my shoulder. “Go to bed, Ev.”
“Willyou call me if you have some free time to hang out beforeSaturday?”
“Ofcourse.” He gathers me in for what I expect will be a quick hug.Blame it on my sleepy brain, but I lean into him and he takes myweight, holding on tight. I fight the urge to ask him to stay. Tocome to bed with me, even if it’s just to sleep. We’ve slept in thesame bed—or couch or tent—countless times, and there was a timewhen I would have suggested it without hesitation. We’re not kidsanymore, though, so those days are long gone.
Maybe it’s a goodthing he’ll likely be too busy to hang out until Saturday. At leastat the party there will be buffers and distractions, and we won’tbe alone. There’ll be no moonlight dancing in the backyard. My momlet us leave the party on Thanksgiving, but there’s no way she’dallow that at a party where I’m the guest of honor.
Wesley breaks intomy thoughts by kissing my cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Love you,Buttercup.”
My heart knockshard against my chest, and my breath catches in my throat. Wesleyhas said those words to me countless times over the years, but Ihaven’t heard them in so long. I’m not sure what my expression is,but it has Wesley’s eyes growing wide for the briefest of momentsbefore he recovers.
“What’swith the face?” he asks.
“Nothing, nothing. I love you too, Wes.”
We say good nightand he leaves. I close the door and slump against it. Stella isawake now, her sleepy gaze trained on me.
“Youokay?” she asks.
I tiltmy head back and forth. What can I say?No, I’m not okay, I’m in love with your brother. Yes, I’mfine, or at least I will be once Wesley leaves town again.“It depends. Was that as painful to watch as itwas to experience firsthand?”
Stella laughsquietly. “Do you want an honest answer?”
“Always.”
“You’reso screwed.”
Don’t I knowit.
CHAPTER TEN
