Page 65 of How to Date a Younger Man
“You’re here!” Kristen exclaims, enveloping Layne in a hearty hug. Then she reaches over with one arm still crushing Layne to grab my shoulder.
“Baby brother, what are you doing here?” she asks, squeezing my arm through my jacket.
Kristen is clearly exhausted, overcompensating with energetic greetings. People say that wedding planning is all-consuming . . . but now I see it. The bags under her eyes, paired with the messy bun piled on top of her head—she’s a wreck. Furthermore, she’s completely missed the glaringly obvious indication that something is different between Layne and me and that we are standing in front of her holding hands.
“I missed my sister. It’s good to see you haven’t drowned in tulle and flower arrangements yet.”
“Ugh,” Kristen says with a wrinkled nose. “If you think that there will be tulle of any kind at my wedding, then you’re uninvited.”
We join her at the tiny table, pulling a chair from another table for me to sit on. After our orders are placed, Kristen turns toward me.
“So, let me guess. You two got drunk without me last night and crashed at . . .” Her finger trails from me to Layne. “Layne’s place?”
“Griffin’s place, actually. And yes . . . and no,” Layne says, folding her hands on the table diplomatically.
Wow, we’re really jumping in, aren’t we?
“Whatever, I don’t want to hear about it. I get it, I’m not cool anymore,” Kristen says, her hands raised in surrender. “I get engaged, and all my friends assume I can’t hang anymore.”
“That’s not it,” I say, taking Layne’s imploring look as my cue to jump in. “I got pretty smashed last night, and Layne came over to take care of me. Did you ever get my voice mail?”
“Fuck, I’m sorry for not calling you back. You know what Max’s family is like.”
“It’s totally okay. It’s just a long story.” With a nod from Layne, I dive in and tell my sister about the job opportunity in New York.
Kristen clutches her heart with one hand, her eyes wide. “Oh God, please tell me you’re not moving across the country,” she whispers.
The look of horror on her face makes me laugh. I love my sister. I really do.
“I’m not, I promise. I turned it down for personal reasons.”
I don’t know whether I’m the one who should say it, or if Layne should. I turn to her, trying to decide my next move. Just as my eyes land on her, Kristen’s follow, and soon we’re both staring at Layne, who turns a bright pink in no time. Whoops.
Our food arrives, giving Layne a moment to gulp down some ice water and regain a little composure. If I weren’t concerned about Layne’s emotional state, this would be so fucking funny.
“Hold on,” Kristen says through a mouthful of french toast, then stops herself. “No, wait. I don’t want to guess. I want to hear it from you two.” She sets down her fork and looks at us with her eyebrows raised. The table is deafeningly silent. “Anytime now. My food is getting cold.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Layne look so worried before. So I take a breath, reaching under the table to squeeze her knee before looking back at Kristen. “It’s been a long time coming, but Layne and I are seeing each other. I’m sorry that we didn’t tell you until now. It’s been a complicated situation, and we weren’t sure if it was going anywhere.”
“I’m sorry,” Layne blurts out, more agitated than I think I’ve ever seen her. “I should have told you a while ago, but like Griffin said, I was just trying to figure out if it all meant anything. I feel so horrible for keeping it from you. Please don’t hat—,”
“And does it?” Kristen interrupts, expressionless.
Layne and I exchange a confused look.
“Does it what?” Layne asks, her voice so tight, I want to hug her.
“Does it mean anything?” Kristen reaches across the table, taking one of our hands in each of hers, and I can feel the tension draining from Layne next to me.
“Yes,” she says with a big, relieved sigh. “It means everything. Griffin means everything to me.”
I can’t help the stupid grin that takes over my face.
Suddenly, Kristen releases our hands, throwing her fists in the air with a triumphant cheer. “Waiter! Waiter!” she cries, waving her arms. “Can we get some champagne over here?”
Layne laughs. “I don’t know if they do cham—”
“Oh, they’d better!” Kristen cries, reaching across the table to pinch one of my cheeks and Layne’s.
“Ow,” I say with a groan. I can’t say I expected this reaction.
“You guys don’t know it yet, but you just saved my honeymoon!”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“So, don’t be mad, but Max and I had a bet. Since it was obvious that you two were hooking up, we put a bet on whether or not you would start actually dating at some point.”
