Page 58 of A Fine Line

Lottie, jumped down her stool to grab a water out of the fridge, bumping her hip playfully against mine before grabbing an apple slice off the counter. Her mom playfully swatted it away and Lottie just winked back at her.

“Seriously,” she said with a smirk, “you may have moved to Philly for Marshall, but we all know you were actually sent there for that man out there.”

I sighed, my lips curving into a soft smile. “He is pretty great, isn’t he?”

“Isn’t he?” Felicity copied my tone, playfully smiling. “Gosh, when is it my turn?”

“Don’t act like you and Knox aren’t already basically engaged.” Lottie nudged her. Despite Felicity’s deepen skin tone, her cheeks color to a rosy red and I smile without another word.

As if on cue, Crew turned around facing the screen door, like he could hear us even from the yard. He caught my eye, and a wide grin spread across his face as he waved excitedly, that carefree energy of his practically radiating off him.

“Oh, and he’s obsessed with you,” Lottie added.

Before I could respond, Crew jogged up to the house, stepping inside and weaving through the crowd of family members. He didn’t stop to say hi to anyone else or listen to my aunts say ‘enemy on the line’—he came straight to me, planting a kiss on my cheek, his hand resting lightly on my lower back.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice soft, just for me.

“Good morning,” I replied, feeling that familiar warmth bloom inside me as our eyes met.

We were probably staring at each other longer than necessary, because Lottie groaned dramatically beside us. “Alright, that’s it.I need a boyfriend. I’m re-downloading Tinder,” she declared, holding up her phone and storming out of the kitchen, leaving us laughing behind her.

I leaned into Crew, feeling the comforting weight of his arm around me. Everything about this moment felt perfect—being back home at Willow Creek, the sound of my family’s chatter filling the house, baking pies for fun, Crew fitting in like he’d always belonged here. The gentle kiss on my cheek, the smell of fresh sweet tea simmering on the stove—it all just felt right.

And as soon as we got back home and won that competition, I was going to see if we could make it permanent. Make us permanent.

Thanksgiving at Willow Creek was always a full-on event, apparently. With too many people and more food than anyone could ever dream of eating. My senses didn’t know what to think of it. I thought I was used to family dinners, judging my whole crew back home, but then again, I hadn’t experienced a Willow Creek Thanksgiving.

Thankfully, Winnie gave me full warning ahead of time. And being the angel she was, she’d picked up on my aversions to loud noises and ordered me very discreet, but impactful, ear plugs.

“My old roommate had sensory problems,” She shrugged like it was no big deal. Like I wasn’t broken or wrong or anything. She said it like it didn’t mean anything to her, which meant everything to me. “I think these could help. If you want them?”

I could hear the conversation without the overwhelming pushing of background noises like cows in the distance or football games on TV or Lottie and Knox fighting over guitar hero one room over and Felicity trying to support them both from the side. I could feel Winnie’s hands trailing back and forth on my forearm as she talked to her uncle without my skin tingling from it all being too much.

The ear plugs helped a lot, but I think what was the most helpful was knowing I had an escape. And not just an escape that was an hour away waiting for a long hike and no cell service. But an escape that was directly out that window, waiting for me.

Prior to everyone sitting down, Winnie made sure I knew it was more than fine if I got overstimulated and needed to slip out of the door for a walk into the quiet night. And knowing I had that as a backup, in addition to the plugs, made me feel safe. Made me feel warm and wanted.

It had still been an overwhelming thought at first—spending the holiday with Winnie’s family, hundreds of miles away from the city, on a farm that seemed to stretch on forever—but now that I was here, surrounded by her cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, it didn’t feel so daunting anymore. In fact, being here made me feel...right, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

My family was busy, constantly moving and talking, but they weren’t distant. I had misunderstood that at first. There had been a time when I thought they didn’t care—when their absence or lack of attention felt like I wasn’t really important to them. Or that I was just the bonus kid. I got it now. They’re just busy, caught up in the hustle of family life. Of loving their partner and kids and everything else around them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t care. I could see that in the way they all sent me a picture of my empty seat at the table. The same one I always got. Even Adam sent a separate text to me, saying he missed me and wanted me to help him work on his carbonator when I got back. Which was basically a giant kiss on the mouth coming from the guy. It was a comfort I didn’t know I needed, but it settled inside me like a warm fire on a cold night. Maybe they did miss me. And maybe it was true what they say about distance making the heart grow fonder.

It wasn’t until I started falling for Winnie that I truly understood why they were so enraptured by the people around them. I mean, how could I? I hadn’t been part of something this big, this connected, until now. I hadn’t understood how falling for someone could be so overwhelming in the best way. That’s what Winnie had done—she opened my eyes to the chaos, the love, the messiness of it all. And now, as we sat around the table for Thanksgiving dinner, her family laughing and passing around bowls of mashed potatoes and green beans, and it didn’t feel like pretending anymore.

We’d been smiling at each other all day, teasing, flirting under the radar of her cousins who were too busy cracking jokes and taking selfies to notice. Her aunts and uncles were telling stories from the past, her grandparents sitting close together at the end of the table, watching their family with content smiles. There was so much love in this room. It was real, and it hadn’t felt fake since we got on that plane a few days ago. It was as if something had shifted between us, like the layers of pretense had fallen away, leaving just… us. And I didn’t see us going back to normal anytime soon.

I leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Winnie’s forehead as she smiled up at me. She was talking to her grandmother about something, but the look in her eyes told me she felt it too—that shift, that change. It wasn’t just me. Her hand found mine under the table, her fingers slipping between mine as if they belonged there. And in that moment, it was like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us, even in a room full of people.

When dinner wrapped up, after I stayed almost still the entire time, everyone stood holding their bellies and complaining of their sleep, I only wanted more of this. More of Winnie and me and this place and just all of it, really.

“Want to go somewhere special?” she whispered, her eyes dancing with excitement.

The look in my eyes was that of a desperate man. “If you’re there, then I want to go anywhere.”

She grinned, tugging me up from the table. We slipped out of the dining room, unnoticed by her cousins who were too busy arguing about the last slice of pie, or seconds away from passing out on the extra-large leather recliner in the corner. Winnie grabbed the keys to one of the trucks and led me out into the crisp night air. The farm was quiet now, save for the distant sounds of animals settling in for the night. String lights led the path beyond the front porch to the garage, and I followed as Winnie’s hips swayed in front of me.

We climbed into one of her uncles trucks, the engine roaring to life as Winnie drove us down an old, winding path that stretched far beyond where the house lights could reach. The road twisted and turned, dry dirt kicking up behind us, leading us deeper into the property until all we could see were fields stretching out into the distance and the faint outline of mountains on the horizon.

She parked the truck in the middle of nowhere, where no one could see us. Where lights were in the distances but it was just us here. And the cows that were occasionally mooing a few fields over. We both hopped into the back, sitting side by side, our legs dangling over the edge. The sky above was an endless sea of stars, and the cool breeze carried the scent of earth and grass.

---