“I told you,” Nate says. “This is what happens when you hang around someone for over a decade and a half.”
“So, are you a nonconventional couple or something?” Aaron’s still watching us. “You’re not wearing rings.”
“Honey, leave them alone.” Trixie rolls her eyes. “Don’t mind him. He’s a sore loser. I was just happy he picked the right coffee order.” As she pats her husband on the chest, I’m prepared to take my leave.
Nate is not on the same page, though. “We’re not a couple at all, actually. We’re just friends.” When he says it, I freeze. I’m not sure if it’s because I know Aaron isn’t going to like that, or if it’s a sore reminder of where Nate and I stand.
But it’s never bothered me before. Why is it now? Why is so much on this vacation bothering me?
“What?” Aaron asks. “How? But you’re in the honeymoon area!”
Nate looks at me with a raised eyebrow, silently asking what I want to tell them.
“It was just a last-second decision.”
“What sort of friends go on a honeymoon cruise together?”
“And why did I never have any like that?” Trixie laughs. Aaron levels her with a glare.
“This is just how we are.” Nate shrugs. “And apparently we know each other more than married couples.”
“And the whole ‘when did you fall in love’ question?” Aaron’s pressing us in ways I’m not sure I like.
“A lucky guess,” Nate answers. I look to the floor.
“I can’t believe this!” Aaron says. “And here I was, thinking you two would be easy to beat because you’re weird with each other.”
Thatsnaps me out of my thoughts. “Hey!” Nate and I say at the same time.
“Go get a drink,” Trixie demands. “You’re being rude about things again.” Aaron huffs and leaves, but she gives us a near-catlike smile. “You two have fun. Within reason of friends, of course.” She winks before following her husband.
“Did that ... seem weird to you?” Nate asks.
“Everything about this is weird to me.”
Nate stares in their direction before shaking his head and turning to me. “Oh man. Aaron’sface. He was so mad.”
“They shouldn’t have challenged me.” I shrug.
“God, I can’t wait to tell your parents. They’ll get a kick out of it.”
It might get a huff of laughter out of Dad. Nate always manages to get those somehow. I just hope he doesn’t mention the last question.
Pushing all thoughts of strawberries and lunch tables out of my mind, we head to the room. I use the silence to come up with a plan to get the couch for the night. I know the competition is stiff.
“Hey, Nate. Could you not go into the room?”
“Why?” he asks slowly.
“I need to ... handle things. And it’ll need to air out.”
“Oh, God. Why would you say it like that?” He winces. “But fine. Have fun. Text me if you need an air freshener.”
“Thanks!” I call. He’s heading to the pool deck, and I know I’ll have time to do what I need to.
I do have to use the bathroom and freshen up, but then I grab a blanket and pillow and make myself comfortable on the couch. When I sit, I realize that he’ll find any reason not to let me stay, so I also grab my suitcase and charger to really settle in.
Nate must not have gone far, because when I text him, he comes back almost immediately.
