Evie pulls her toes from the water and moves toward me, chewing the inside of her cheek. I look past her at the tall fence bordering the backyard and, for the millionth time in my life, fight off the memories from my childhood that I wish I could forget.
The schoolyard bullying and comments from extended family all focused around my weight when there was nothing I wanted more than to look like them. And even now, no matter how hard I work to keep the weight off after years of battling it, I’ll never forget the jeering laughs or insults chucked at me from kids who never struggled in the same ways I did.
Wes and I grew up in the same house, raised by the same parents, but lived two very different lives.
He was the active one. The child whose baseball team came as a priority over anything else. The same team that had us travelling every weekend and coming home late on school nights. It was easy for our parents to hand me a burger from adrive-thru after I’d snacked on chips and peanuts all day at the field, whereas my brother had the metabolism of a professional athlete already and could pound back double that without ever seeing the consequences.
I don’t blame my parents for it, though.
They were doing the best they could, and I was so young I didn’t understand the mess my habits had created until years later.
Evie’s hand touches my arm, and I sniff, blinking away the chance of a rogue tear escaping. She doesn’t say anything about it, and I have no words ready to thank her with.
“For the record, I’ve never worn a romper that actually fits me this well before. I’m not nervous I’ll flash anyone my ass cheeks or spend the entire day picking out a wedgie. I don’t know how you got it to be my size, but I’m taking it as a sign that I was meant to be the model for it.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too. It looks beautiful on you.”
The sound of a door gliding behind us has me spinning around so fast my hair flies into my eyes. I hastily push it out of the way and swallow when I see Roman standing outside in a pair of dark jeans and a green polo, staring at the two of us with a look that I can’t decipher.
There’s a deep look of exhaustion that can’t be hidden, though. Not when it’s in not only the blue bags beneath his eyes, but the slump of his shoulders and overgrown stubble on his jaw.
“Brielle is right,” he says, his voice rough, like it’s been unused for a while.
Evie does a dramatic twirl beside me, showing off the flowy fabric. “She made it herself. Can you believe that?”
“I can.”
Shivers work down my spine. It’s subtle, but his approval fuels that stubborn, lingering flame inside of me.
“How was your flight?” she asks, giving my back a soft nudge forward, closer to the house.
“Long.”
Her eye roll is obvious in her reply. “I see you’re in a chatting mood.”
“I’m just tired, Evie,” he states while scratching at his unshaven jaw. His eyes flick to me, still carefully devoid of emotion. “And I didn’t know there would be company waiting for me.”
“Surprise,” I sing, winking.
“Technically, she’s not your company. She’s mine. But since you’re so interested, you can join us for a movie. Right, Elle? I promise he won’t be too much of a grump once we get some food in his stomach.”
Movie?Since when?
My momentary confusion is quickly washed away by butterfly-inducing excitement. I shrug as loosely as I can.
He sees right through it. His probing gaze doesn’t waver. “I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Oh, you won’t be. You should go change while I order food. What’s everyone in the mood for?” Evie rambles on, pushing me further across the patio. “I’m thinking sushi, if nobody has anything better they’d like?”
“Sushi’s good,” I say.
Roman grunts his agreement.
“Sweet. You two can choose the movie while I order, then.”
By the time she’s reaching around her uncle to tug the door open, my toes are touching his. He’s so tense that the air between us might as well have solidified. I stand frozen and hold his stare, not wanting to be the one to back down first.
Even after spending hours on a plane, he smellssofucking good. Like a clean man who takes pride in himself. I can’t help but inhale the scent of his cologne and push further forward,just enough that our middles brush. Evie’s too close for us to be acting so bold, but I’m not thinking properly. After a week of not seeing him, I’m helpless to the ruthless pull between us.
