Page 32 of When We Meet Again

He turns to look back at me with what almost looks likefearflitting across his face. “Yes, I did, and we are. I didn’t know she’d be here. I didn’t invite her.”

“It’s okay. This is going to be agreatbirthday.” I hope my words don’t show the sarcasm battling for release. “The more the merrier! At least you won’t be lonely at night.” I try not to spit those last words out and hide my emotions. Sure, I sound likea petty, passive-aggressive teenage girl, but I’m not even sorry about it.

“I’m not lonely,” he whispers, his hand finding the small of my back. Right where moments earlier, I wanted it to be. But right now?

I stick my tongue out at him again and walk past him up the ramp into his mother’s arms. Not my proudest moment.

“I’m so happy you both made it safely.” Janine Huxley’s beautiful, amber eyes bounce between me and Roman. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course, it’s okay, Neen,” Harold, Roman’s dad, says boisterously next to her, “We’re in Italy!”

Her gaze penetrates mine, one brow raised, as I see her attempt to search my brain for the truth I’m hiding. But eventually, she gives up and turns narrowed eyes on her youngest son. I don’t want to know what that look means.

My own eyes stalk Lena like a lion stalking a gazelle. She approaches Roman, her walk oozing sex, desire, and unhindered confidence as her long, white linen skirt flows elegantly behind from the gentle breeze. Her tan midriff is exposed by her cute, white, cropped tank. And her toned arms wrap around him like it’s second nature. “I’m glad you made it, Roman!” She lets go of him and folds her hands in front of her, tensing in excitement. “We’re sharing a room, aren’t you excited.” Roman’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open. Speechless, much?

I hate that she’s a nice person. My secret anger toward her for being perfect would be a lot easier to excuse.

Abort! Abort!I’m next on her radar as she makes her way over to me. “Nice to see you again, Wynter,” she chimes, pulling me into an obligatory hug. I use my one free hand to return the embrace while looking at Roman next to me. He looks tormented by confusing emotions.

“It’s Waverly, but I’m sure you know that.” I pat her shoulder blade like it’s a tap out in a UFC fight. I pull back as Roman pushes through us and sets our suitcases down in the main cabin. I ignore the palpable tension and peer around at my new home for the next two weeks. It’s gorgeous; literally like a house on the water. Patrick never invited me on his family’s boat. He’s taken fishing trips with the men of the family plenty of times. I immediately wonder how many times I was just an afterthought to him.

“Roman, you can leave Waverly’s suitcases in…ummm…Patrick’s room.” Janine smiles at her son, the pain of his absence still strong with their mother.

He looks at me with furrowed brows. “Mom, what is Lena doing here? We broke up. And I don’t think Kensi wants to sleep?—”

Janine’s eyes go wide, “Oh dear, I didn’t know that.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Let me think how to fix this, Roman. And Waverly most likely still sleeps in Patrick’s bed at her apartment, does she not? It’s no different here.” I’m not sure what’s happening right now, and I’m not sure I want to know.

I glance at Lena with her hands clasped in front of her, smiling up at a frowning Roman. Her beachy blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail with a loose braid tucked along the side. Even her hair is perfect. I look like a hot mess. After a motorcycle ride, two naps, and a hellish cab ride over here, I feel like Medusa.

I search for Harold, wondering at what point he’s going to step into this conversation. It’s awkward and a smidge uncomfortable. Normally his cue for an intervention, but I’m out of luck as I spot him deep-diving into a bowl of strawberries, stacking three different cheeses off a tray, and pushing them into his mouth. I try to wide-eye him as a silent beacon for help and fail miserably.

“Can you stop talking about her like she isn’t here?” Roman gestures to me while I’m now trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to get off this boat.

“It won’t be a problem, you sleeping in Patrick’s old room, will it, Waverly? He used it maybe a handful of times before he left for the Coast Guard, so it’s more like a spare room.” Janine turns to me with a forced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. The sadness behind them is all too familiar.

I glance at Roman and back to his mom.I enjoy sleeping alone. I did our entire relationship. Nothing new to see here. “Not at all, Janine.” I turn my back to the three of them and join Harold.If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

Roman and his mom are still talking, while Lena stands there like an anxious puppy ready to be pet, as Harold leans closer to me. Roman has his father’s eyes. The dark, mysterious, almost up-to-no-good kind of eyes that are a beautiful mahogany color in the sun. “Grab some cheese and meet me down there.” He points to the main deck of the boat that’s lined with reclined Adirondack chairs. I don’t bother letting the other two Huxleys, or Lena, know where I’m going. They’re in their own little world. So, I follow my instructions and grab a plate with some cheese and a few other pieces of fruit. This spread is something out of a catering magazine. It’s enough to feed an entire family for a week.

A gentle breeze kicks up as I walk down the steps to meet Harold. He sits down with his plate full of cheese, letting out a grunt. “It’s been a bit tense since Patrick passed.”

Well, that’s out of the blue.

I feel my nerves humming. I haven’t discussed Patrick with anyone but Roman or Tom.

“Roman hasn’t come around for the past several months. Christ…to see my son, I have to go to his work. He’s always holed up in his office. I hate that life for him. He’s young. He needs tolive and have fun…” Harold glances at me out of the corner of his eye and back out to the water. “...Find a real love, and not some puppy love.”

His salt and pepper hair blows in his face. He’s a handsome man, much like his son. Roman has more of his features than his mother’s. It’s obvious Patrick was his mother’s son—light hair and pale skin.

“He has time. He’s still young. Rome’s only twenty-four,” I say, trying to defend him.

“You’re right.” He pops another piece of square white cheese in his mouth. Thankfully, he finishes chewing before he continues. “One more thing, Waverly…”

I take a bite of pineapple, and I look at him through squinted eyes. I forgot my sunglasses. “Yes, sir.”

“Janine meant no harm in inviting Lena. The last time Roman visited, Lena was in tow. Neen figured they were still together…mostly because she never asked.” Harold’s shoulders fall. “Every day kind of moves in a blur after a child dies. She’s been having a really hard time mourning his death…it’s made even worse when you are robbed of the closure of them not recovering his body. I had to get her off of her happy pills first. She was popping them like Skittles. Anyway, no matter what, you’ll always be a part of our family, Waverly. Even after we marry off Roman.” And another piece of cheese.Marry off Roman.Those words sit in the pit of my stomach like a bad dollop of mayo. I wince, trying not to think of Roman getting married. I’m not sure why I’m having such an extreme, visceral reaction to the thought, but my guess is that now is not the time to dive into that. Harold is still rambling, which is why I love him so much. We are similar. “I’m not sure who’s going to deal with that attitude of his, though. It’s going to take averyspecial woman.” He never looks at me, but a grin forms on his face. The same one his son has been sharing with me recently.

Footsteps approach. I don’t need to turn to know it’s Roman. I know it’s him from the buzz I feel in my body. Like there’s an electric current between us, tugging at my nerve endings, and it’s really hard to ignore. “You talkin’ about me, Dad?”

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