Page 94 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

Joey

Brad and I stay out on the water for a good couple hours. Despite being on a speedboat andnota pirate’s brigantine, as I repeatedly remind him, Brad doesn’t let up on the “seamen” puns. Nor the occasional flagpole-related joke that’s distinctly dirty in nature.

Honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

By the time we make it back to land, Brad voicing his enthusiastic approval of motorboating, we’re too tired to do much other than eat an early dinner with my mom, watch a movie—Dirty Dancing, of course—and head to bed.

And that’s precisely where Brad should be now. So when I roll over to find his spot empty despite it clearly being the middle of the night, I sit up and look around.

“Bub?” I call softly, noticing a person-shaped shadow near the kitchen.

He jolts slightly. “Oh, hey. Sorry, did I wake you?”

“The lack of you woke me,” I admit, swinging my legs out of bed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

I hum, scrubbing my face a little before standing.

Brad makes a soft sound. “You don’t have to get up.”

“I don’t mind,” I tell him, padding across the floor. “Please tell me you’re not drinking coffee right now?”

He snorts, setting down the cup in his hand, the clink of it soft against the countertop. “No, just water.”

Brad doesn’t object when I wrap myself around him. In fact, he leans into me, a sigh accompanying the relaxation of his shoulders.

“Want to talk about it?” I ask.

He shrugs, his hands worming under my t-shirt. “I dunno. I’ve never slept well. And it’s not the coffee’s fault, I swear. I quit it for half a year once to check, and it only got worse. I just…”

He makes a noise that’s almost a grumble, and it’s so unexpectedly surly, I have to keep my laughter in check.

“I tried therapy before?” he says, almost like a question. “And she said when a person grows up feeling…alone, without their needs for emotional support and safety being met, they may learn habits of self-sufficiency that aren’t always healthy in the long run. Like, meerkats have a system of defense, right? There’s always at least one on guard, even when the others are sleeping. I guess I just…didn’t have anyone to watch my back.”

My heart breaks at the casual way in which Brad explains his childhood abandonment. And, apparently, the ongoing problems that stemmed from his parents giving him away to a man who, by Brad’s own admission, tried his best but wasn’t the warmest. Did he not have anyone to comfort him when he had a nightmare? Was he afraid if he asked too much of his grandfather, the man might give him up, too?

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“You already help,” he says softly. “You’re the best sleeping pill I’ve found, Joey. But… I guess no system is foolproof.”

I nod, throat tight. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling back, his face hard to make out in the dark.

“If you want.”

“I do. Let me grab some pants,” he says, practically skipping away.

The two of us get dressed in the dark, and I grab a flashlight in case a car comes along while we’re on the road, though I doubt there will be anyone around at this time of night. With our sweatshirts in place to ward off the chill, we head outside. The moon is a small sliver in the sky tonight, the private road dark without streetlights. But there’s just enough light for us to walk by.

I lead Brad in the direction of the park, figuring the swings might help. Maybe it’s a silly idea, but he seems to calm with motion.

We’re quiet on the way there, but as soon as Brad sees the small playground up ahead, hewhoopsand sprints toward the equipment. There’s the swing set—a large, metal-framed thing—and a solitary slide that gets too hot to go down when the sun’s out. Brad heads right for the swings, plopping onto one of the black rubber seats, his hands around the chains as he sets into motion.

“Shit,” he says, the one word happy and light. “I haven’t been on a swing in forever.”

“Figured you might enjoy it,” I admit, settling onto the one next to him and swaying in place. “Can I ask a question?”

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