Finley
Dad and I head out back, each of us carrying a plate of burgers to grill. The second we step onto the patio, Eddie’s voice rings loud and clear from around the side of the house.
“I’m sorry I missed the appointment…of course I’m still planning on signing—things are crazy with my Princeton classes right now. It’s not easy to get back to New York.”
I open the grill, allowing it to clank loudly to dilute Eddie’s voice. Dad follows my lead, lighting the grill and making more noise than necessary.
“…I’d rather you didn’t tell her that I haven’t signed yet…”
“So,” Dad says, obviously wanting to let Eddie have his privacy. “Jason is back.”
I groan internally, remembering Summer’s embarrassing hijacked call to Jason last week. “Yeah, I know.”
“Yes, sir,” Eddie says to the person on the phone. “Tuesday night. Princeton alumni center. Got it.”
“Anything happening with that?” Dad asks, working hard to ignore Eddie.
“Not sure.” I slide the first burger onto the grill and let the sadness and confusion roll over me. What am I not sure about? Jason or me? I don’t think we’re a factor any more.
Before I have to decide, Eddie comes around the house and onto the patio. He’s startled to see us here but hides it well. The color has drained from his face, and his eyes no longer hint at amusement but instead are full of panic.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.
He scratches the back of his head, his gaze drifting from me to the pool in the backyard. “Oh…nothing. I’m good. Just had to take a phone call…” Dad and I both hang there, waiting for more, but Eddie forces a grin and points at the pool. “Wow, nice. How deep is it?”
Dad and Eddie begin a lengthy discussion on the inground pool structure while I cook dinner. On the train here, I got super nervous thinking about everything Eddie doesn’t know regarding my family. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked me more, but maybe this is one of those “treat others as you want to be treated” situations. He’s not asking much, because he doesn’t want me to ask about his family. Or phone calls that leave him panicked.
Later, after dinner, Eddie and I get roped into hanging decorations in the backyard for the party tomorrow. All Star Wars–themed, of course. Eddie seems oddly comfortable, and I’m back to wondering what he hasn’t had a chance to sign because he’s been so busy with “classes” and who this “her” is. Forget it, Finley. It’s none of your business. He’s just hanging out for the weekend. Nothing more.
“Where do you want the Jedi banner?”
I shake my head and refocus before glancing around the patio, which is now lit by light-saber torches. “Um, I think maybe here”—I point to the edge of the patio roof that faces the pool—“but it might be too high to reach without getting out the ladder.”
“We can do it.” Before I realize what’s happening, Eddie hoists me up onto his shoulder and grabs a roll of tape along with the banner. His fingers spread deliberately across my stomach, and my heart picks up speed in response. But when my dad rolls into the family room, glancing outside, Eddie shifts his hand to a more polite location on my hip. “I’ve never had a birthday party with decorations like this.”
“Like what?” I ask, reaching for the post to secure one corner of the banner. “Star Wars–themed? Me either.”
Eddie laughs and tightens his grip on me before walking across the patio to hang the other side. “I mean kid-themed. I can’t even remember a birthday party of mine with kids other than my older sister.”
“Never?” I tape the other corner up, and then Eddie backs up so we can check out the Jedi sign that reads “Happy 6th Birthday, Braden and Connor.”
“Nope,” he confirms. “But I don’t remember all my parties, I guess.”
I know very little, but I’m already disturbed by the coldness of his home. Then Summer’s accusations come back, and I work hard to lump Eddie into the wounded animal category. But when he sets me down on the ground again, the heat of his body hitting mine, all I can think about is him gripping me tight after I led him up to my bedroom the night of the party, his voice quiet and confident in my ear, telling me to relax, telling me I’m beautiful and perfect and yeah…
I take a giant step back from him and say as firmly as possible. “We’re just—I mean, you’re here as my friend. Got it?”
“Got it.” The amusement returns to his face. He leans in to add, “Naked friends.”
I point a finger at him in warning. “Once. And only once.”
“Right. Of course. Gotta be true to the one-night stand club.” Eddie lifts an eyebrow, his grin too big and confident.
My dad chooses that moment to open the sliding glass doors and say, “So…I’m assuming you don’t need me to get sheets and blankets for the pullout couch?”
I snap around to face Dad, my cheeks probably bright red. “Why not?”
He shrugs. “Just figured Eddie might be staying in your room.”
“Dad!” Jesus Christ, why can’t he be a normal father and pull out a shotgun at the sight of a boy near me?
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. Just trying to be cool, you know?”
“Well, stop,” I snap. “And yes, sheets. Blankets. Pullout couch. All of that.”
After Dad is gone, I glance back at Eddie, expecting more of his teasing, but he looks almost as embarrassed as I am. Maybe even a little anxious. He scratches his head again. “You don’t think he heard the naked friend comment, do you?”
I laugh, the humiliation already dimming. “No, he didn’t hear you. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Unfortunately, he is one of those cool dads. Maybe not cool, but realistic. I am eighteen. Not fifteen. And I live on my own now.”
An awkward silence falls between us—the problem with one-night stands, I’m quickly learning—and we both put a bit more distance between us and continue the decorating. When we finally go back inside, my dad and the boys are in bed. I hang back, not wanting to stand close to Eddie now that there’s a bed in the family room. Eddie doesn’t go near the couch bed either. He strolls past the photos on the wall, stopping at one hanging above the mantel.
“Is this your mom?” Eddie asks. I nod, waiting, knowing what’s coming next. Eddie adds, “She doesn’t look like you at all.”
“Yeah, I know. My mom used to joke all the time that my dad must have been running around on her, since none of her kids look like her.” I slide closer to him, assessing the photo of the dark-haired woman. It’s been a while since I’ve really looked at these photos and remembered my mom like this. I’m still staring at the picture, my thoughts elsewhere, when Eddie says, “Was it a car accident?”
I wouldn’t say that it’s difficult for me talk about it. I’ve made peace with it, I keep my mom close to me, and I believe in heaven. But whenever I have to explain to someone who doesn’t know anything about my family, someone like Eddie who’ve I’ve kept things cool and casual with, it’s not easy.
Heat rushes to my face. I glance sideways at Eddie for a second and see that he’s moved on to one of our last family photos, one where my dad is standing to his full height of six feet two and my brothers are little rubber-necked infants.
I open my mouth to answer Eddie’s question but then decide to nod instead. I don’t want to hear any emotion in my voice. I don’t want to move backward.
“Were you—” Eddie starts.
“No. I was at the studio.” I take a breath, surprised by how steady it is. Surprised that saying these details out loud hasn’t transported me back to that day. “Connor and Braden were in the car.” Worry creases his face, so I add, “They were fine. Barely a scratch.”
Eddie turns to face me, his gaze so heavy and intense that I pull in a breath and hold it. “You have her eyes.”
I hang on to his gaze, my feet shuffling closer until heat fills the space between us and completely envelops me. My head clouds with a million thoughts—Who are you, Eddie Wells? What is your story? Why does it seem like you have so much to tell? And why is your mouth so easy to stare at? And why do I want to kiss you so badly? I can hardly remember kissing him the first time, or maybe I’m refusing to let myself remember, but this only means it would be like the first time again.
My fingers brush lightly on the front of his T-shirt at the same time as his hand drifts over a loose strand of my hair. My eyelids begin to flutter and close, my heart thudding a million beats a minute.
Behind me, a door opens, and I jolt back to reality. Eddie releases a nervous laugh, and I shake my head and back away. “Friends. Just friends.”
Both of us pull ourselves back together. Eddie seems to be done with his Belton family inquisition, so I move on to more technical hostess duties.
For a couple minutes, while I’m handing Eddie a towel, pointing out the bathroom, and showing him the path that needs to stay clear for my dad’s wheelchair, it does feel friendly. Just friendly. But when I finally close my bedroom door and I’m lying in my bed, my heart’s still racing, and my cheeks are still warm.
I bury my face in a pillow and groan loud enough to release some of my frustrations but not enough to alert anyone else.
Summer is right. I’m drawn to the guys who need rescuing. This has to stop. Now.