“We should totally go get some before my brothers eat it all.”
I hold my breath. “We?”
“Yep. I told you, I'm all in, baby. This is just the way it's going to be now. You're going to have to trust me. If not, it’ll be really fucking awkward when I'm ringing the phone off the hook and showing up in the middle of the night when you refuse to answer.”
“Knock first in case Suit is here,” I joke.
I think steam comes from Coy’s ears. I stop it with a kiss.
“Let’s get meatloaf,” I tell him.
He readjusts our hands, locking our fingers together.
“Are you going to hold my hand all the way over there?” I joke.
He looks up at me stone-faced. “Hell, yes I fucking am. Might as well just go in guns blazing and let everyone know. Because I want them to know that when I am not here, they are now responsible for you too.”
“No, Coy,” I say, shaking my head. “That's … I don't … No.”
He spins me around and captures me in his arms. “You’re mine now. You better get used to this.”
As I look into his eyes, I don’t think it’s going to be hard to fall madly, stupidly in love with him. And that might be a good thing.
And it might not too.
Seventeen
Coy
“There better be meatloaf left,” I say as we step into Mom’s kitchen.
I close the door behind Bellamy.
The room is loud and chaotic like it always is when my brothers gather for dinner. Wade stands next to the pantry with our father, talking about something that’s guaranteed to be mind-numbingly boring. Holt and Oliver sit at the table with cups of coffee and smug little grins on their faces. Boone is perched on the counter, his hand in a bowl of Chex Mix while he listens to Holt’s girlfriend, Blaire, rattle on about something that seems to hold his interest.
Mom, on the other hand, busies herself around everyone with a sponge in her hand and a contented smile on her face.
I wrap an arm around Bellamy’s waist and hold her close to my side.
“If we knew you were coming, Bells, we would’ve saved you a piece,” Holt jokes.
“There’s enough for both of you,” Mom tells me and Bellamy. She shoots Holt a look. “You be nice.”
“It smells great, Siggy,” Bellamy tells her.
Mom beams. “Come in here and let’s fix your plates.”
We follow her to the stove. Kettles and pans sit on the stovetop with the remnants of dinner. Because Mom can only cook for an army, plenty of food is left.
Mom hands us plates. “What did you two do today?”
“I golfed earlier and then hung out at Boone’s,” I tell her as I motion for Bellamy to fill her plate first.
“I gave him life advice,” Boone says before filling his mouth with Chex Mix.
“Are you that desperate?” Oliver asks. “For fuck’s sake, Coy, hire a therapist. Or bring me a bottle of gin and I’ll give you all the advice you need.”
Blaire turns around and faces us. “Boone just shared a few semi-remarkable observations with me. I think he’s on the precipice of enlightenment.”
Everyone laughs but Boone. He screws up his face.
“I don’t want to be enlightened.” He sighs. “No more podcasts for me while I run. I’m going back to songs about cars and money.”
Dad laughs. “Of course, you listen to songs about two things you know nothing about.”
Even Boone can’t help but laugh at Dad’s joke.
They continue discussing Boone’s obsession with cars and podcasts while I take my turn piling food on my plate. Bellamy exchanges hellos with Blaire, and I realize they have never met before. It doesn’t seem to bother either of them, though, and they banter back and forth with an ease that makes me happy. It feels natural.
It is natural.
Something my dad said to me a few days ago right in this very kitchen filters through my mind.
There will come a day when you just know. And then it’s over.
I force a swallow down my throat.
When he shared that thought with me, I remember thinking it didn’t sound fun at all. That having my life over, as he suggested, sounded as boring as watching the same show on television for the rest of my life.
But if this is what he meant, my life doesn’t feel over at all. I thought I wanted someone who didn’t need me at their beck and call, who didn’t need me to make compromises to make her happy. Yet … maybe I do want her to need me. To make compromises. Odd.
I watch Bellamy tease Boone, making Blaire laugh. She reminds me of my mother and how she just fits in and makes everyone feel comfortable.
It’s a good thing. A very good thing. A very good thing that I have to make sure I don’t mess up—for her and for me.
Mom sets two glasses on the table across from Holt and Oliver. Bellamy and I sit down.
“Thank you, Siggy,” she says. “This looks great.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
Mom ruffles her hand through my hair as she walks by. “You’re both very welcome.”
My two oldest brothers watch Bellamy and me. They’ve spent the least time with her out of our family. Holt and Oliver were both older than us and didn’t want to be bothered by our shenanigans. Mostly because they were up to their own bullshit and only needed us to cover when things went awry.
Still, they look curious and maybe even pleased.
I scoot my chair a little closer to Bells without even thinking about it.
“What have you two been up to?” I ask my brothers.
Oliver smiles. “Celebrating.”
“Why?” I ask before popping a piece of meatloaf into my mouth.
“Rosie retired.” Holt sits back in his chair. “Finally.”
Bellamy laughs. “Are you just excited for her or what? I’m getting weird vibes here.”
Oliver laughs too. “Rosie is one hundred years old. She should’ve retired half a century ago, but Holt and I didn’t have the heart to fire her.”
Holt looks over his shoulder toward Wade and smirks. “We even tried to pawn her off on Wade once.”
Wade hears his name and switches his attention to the table.
“You liked Rosie, didn’t you, Wade?” Oliver teases him.
“I did. She was efficient and polite,” Wade says.
“I remember this,” I say, stabbing the green beans with my fork. “Rosie got her feelings hurt so you guys took her back, right?”
Oliver nods. “We did. We’re suckers.”
“But now she’s going to ride off into the sunset with her grandkids—”
“Must be nice!” Mom interjects, firing a very pointed look at Holt.
“Tell her,” Holt says, pointing at his girlfriend. “I’ll put a baby up in that as soon as she lets me.”
I look at Blaire. She’s trying to hide her embarrassment.
“That’s … Let’s discuss that somewhere not amid your entire family, please,” she says, grinning.
Holt wiggles his eyebrows at her.
“So, now we get to replace her,” Oliver says. “Rosie, not Blaire.”