I shove his hand off and give him a disgruntled look, eyebrows drawn tight. Andrew looks away, suddenly shy, and holds both hands up in surrender before sliding off the armrest and moving to sit next to Cici on the couch. She immediately drapes her legs across his lap.
I run a hand down my face, the exhaustion and confusion hitting all at once. I can’t sit here and watch this.
Closing the laptop, I push up from the armchair. “I’ll work at the kitchen table,” I mutter, more to myself than to them, and head out of the living room without looking back.
The weight of everything I’m not supposed to be thinking about follows me down the hallway.
…
The rich, dark roast of my coffee hits just right as I take another slow sip, the corners of my mouth lifting into a genuine grin. I’ve finally found a solid set of wingmirrors for the ’73 Mercedes… original style, good condition, and the price isn’t completely insane. I copy the link and fire off a quick email to Larry and Todd, letting them know what I’ve found. We never pull the trigger on anything without the other two weighing in. We learned that lesson the hard way years ago when we all spotted what looked like a killer deal on a set of rare wheels and ended up with three identical sets sitting in the garage. Now we check with each other first, no matter how good the steal looks.
I’m still scrolling through the auction site when Andrew’s voice cuts through the quiet kitchen. “You look happy…”
I glance up from the laptop. Andrew’s standing in the doorway wearing that same soft grey hoodie he’s had for years, and he’s smiling… actually smiling, arealone. The kind I haven’t seen on his face in years. It catches me off guard, softens something in my chest I don’t want to examine too closely.
I set the coffee mug down on the table. “Yeah… just working on a new project. You know how I am with classic cars.”
Andrew lets out a small huff of a laugh and nods. “Yeah.”
He crosses the room and pulls out the chair right next to mine, sitting closer than he ever does.
I turn my head to look at him properly, eyebrows drawing together. “What are you doing?”
“I just wanted to… see you,” he says quietly.
“Uh huh…” I focus back on my laptop, dragging the mouse over to another tab, opening up a different potential auction site while trying to keep my tone casual. “And what about Cici?”
Andrew shrugs, eyes dropping to the table. “She’s put a film on she likes. Some Disney thing she’s watched a hundred times.”
I nod slowly. “How old is she?”
“Twenty. She’s a few months older than me. We went to high school together.”
“Oh right…” I keep my voice even. “Well, she seems nice.”
Andrew rests his arms on the table and starts fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, rolling the fabric between his fingers. “Does it bother you?”
“What?”
He hesitates, then says it anyway. “That I have a girlfriend?”
A low laugh escapes me before I can stop it. I drop my voice to a rough whisper, so it doesn’t carry into the living room. “Of courseit bothers me. She seems so innocent and…God… after we…”
I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud. What we did. The memory is still too raw, too close, sitting heavy between us. But Andrew knows exactly what I mean.
“Yeah… I know,” he murmurs.
He pauses, then looks up at me with that shy, uncertain expression that makes my stomach twist. “Do you want me to… break up with her?”
“That’s not up to me, kid,” I answer carefully. “But I know what being cheated on feels like, and it’s not great finding out at all, never mind down the line.”
Andrew nods, taking it in, but then his hand slides over and lands on my thigh, warm and deliberate through my jeans. “But doyouwant me to break up with her?”
My brain short-circuits for a second. I stare down at his hand, then back up at his face, pulse kicking hard. “Kid, what the fuck are you doing?”
He pulls his hand away quickly and clears his throat, cheeks flushing.
“Drew…” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Please don’t look into what we did. It didn’t mean anything. I was pissed at you and it just… happened. Go spend time with Cici.”
