Page 63 of The Light We Lost

When he remained standing, I looked up. “Is something wrong?”

He glanced between me and the open space on the blanket. “You think I have cooties or something?”

I snorted. I’d never once thought I’d live to see the day when Nolan saidcooties. “No.” I waved a hand beside me. “I was leaving you plenty of space.”

“You’re barely taking up a quarter of the blanket. Half of your back is still on the ground.”

“So? I was lying on the ground before, and besides, you’re not exactly a small guy.”

“What kind of guy am I?”

I shrugged. “You’re big.”

“You think I’m big?”

“You’re not like massive or anything,” I said, fighting off a laugh. How the hell had we gotten here? “How tall are you? Six two? That’s not exactly small. And even with you not playing baseball and training nonstop, you’re in shape. Have you looked at your forearms?”

“You have?”

I rolled my eyes. If I looked up, I’d no doubt find Nolan preening. His dad had been right to call him a peacock. Yet I wasn’t complaining. “I have eyeballs.”

“You do . . .” His voice was low, amused. “Eyeballs that like to look at my forearms. And admire how big I am. Is there anything else you’ve noticed is so big about me—”

“Good hell.” I groaned and flung my arms over my eyes, hiding from his bellowing laugh. “You’re hot, Nolan. I know it. You know it. Everyone knows it. Get down here before I remember this is a bad idea.”

He chuckled, the blanket shifting beneath me as he lay down. Still hiding behind my arm, I willed my heart rate to relax. “You have stars on your arm or something?”

I laughed, the sound natural and full, a soothing balm to my nerves. I lowered my arm to my side and glanced at Nolan. He mirrored my position, half of his back hanging off the blanket—though his feet hung off too. I raised a brow and he winked. We were being ridiculous. “Figured I should leave you just as much space since I think you’re hot too.”

Smiling, I shook my head, turning my attention back to the sky. I held my breath, bracing for his next joke or teasing jab, but as more time passed, the quieter the night seemed to grow. Just when I thought it might stay that way, he asked, “Do you dance still? Besides with my brother, of course.”

I snorted. Of course he hadn’t let that go. “I’d hardly call what Levi and I did dancing—but no. I stopped years ago.”

He made a humming noise deep in his throat. “That’s a shame.”

I bristled at the disappointment in his voice. Not at me, butforme. It wasn’t a big deal. Dancing hadn’t been a real talent of mine, not one that could lead me down a career path. It had been a hobby; I’d moved on. I glanced at Nolan, and maybe it was because his eyes were closed, but I found the nerve to ask, “Do you still play baseball?”

“I don’t.”

My throat squeezed. I hadn’t expected him to respond so quickly. But if the truth was simple, there was no sense in dragging it out. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped he still played occasionally, even if it was only playing catch. But maybe the past had tarnished it for him, made it not as enjoyable as it once was. “I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy breath. “My choices are my own, Indy. It was my choice that led me here, not yours.”

I blinked hard, pushing through the burning in my eyes. I was grateful he didn’t blame me for his baseball career ending, but I’d always wish I’d done more. “Jake told me you stopped drinking.”

Out of the corner of my vision, I caught him smiling like I’d said something funny. “I told you I did.”

“Yes, but I thought you said that because of the game—not because it was true,” I reminded him, not bothering to point out he’d given me two lies and one truth then. “It confused me. I don’t understand why you’re buying a bar when you don’t even drink.”

“I’ve done a lot of stupid shit, Indy. Buying the bar is the least of it.” He said it with a laugh, but I wondered if Nolan actually believed it. Before I could tell him he hadn’t screwed up any more than anyone else, he said, “Besides, I’m buying the building. Not the bar.”

I rolled onto my side, facing him. “Are you thinking about turning it into something else?” After what I’d pieced together earlier today, I thought I might have an idea what for. “Maybe for your wood carving? I’m sure you could set itup inside in a way that keeps your identity hidden. Like a cutout in a wall, and the only thing someone sees when they’re wanting to buy something are these mysterious hands—”

Nolan chuckled, bringing a faint smile to my lips. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I assumed your dad told you, but when it was obvious he hadn’t, I didn’t know how to bring it up. Sort of hoped it was only a matter of time before you figured it out on your own.”

When he’d sat beside me earlier today and started whittling, I hadn’t known what to think. My thoughts jumped from one thing to another. Why had he kept it from me? Had he known Dad would gift me that star? Had he made it for me? Most of all, though, my thoughts circled back to one thing.

I was proud. Proud to see him moving forward, making something of himself.

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