Page 101 of The Proposal Pact
“Oh, I heard.”
Clover rolls his eyes. “You two are such idiots. I think Mom must’ve dropped me pretty fucking hard when I was a baby that I decided to be friends with you.”
“And now he’s cracking jokes,” Griffin practically squeaks, while Grace and I just stand here watching the show. Where is Alec and his popcorn when we need it.
“What’s going on here?” Julie appears out of nowhere, and we both shush her.
“Shh, it’s just getting good over here.”
“What is—is that my brother?” she shouts.
“Yeah, it’s me. Do you all want an autograph or something? Fair warning, I do charge a fee for that.”
I roll my lips to hide the laugh.
“Um, what are we missing?” Grace asks, frowning, and Luke points at Clover with his beer bottle.
“Callum is here.”
“Yeah, we see that, and?”
“And he hasn’t been here since we were like eighteen. We invited him a million times since he came back but the asshole always refused.”
Grace blinks a few times and then whisper-shouts, “Seriously?” I mirror her expression and question.
“Uh-huh,” Julie hums behind us.
“Why’d you never come here?” Gracie asks Clover, but it’s Luke who answers.
“Because he’s allergic to fun.”
Grace gapes at him for a second and then says, “Yet he married Sophie? The literal fun on wheels?”
I laugh so hard I snort, and Clover’s eyes snap to mine as that faint smile I love so much, graces his lips.
“Fuck, hold me Luke,” Griffin says clutching onto his friend who’s elbowing him in return.
“I haven’t seen him smile in the last sixteen years. Have you?”
Wait, what?
“Nope. Should I check if the sky fell to the ground yet?”
“Might as well.”
“Motherfuckers…will you two finally cut it out?” Clover crosses his arms.
“Not a chance,” they say in unison and grab Clover, dragging him over to the “grumpy corner.”
“I don’t know how you did it, but thank you.” Julie’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but all I can do is just blink.
I knew he has a story. Know he lost someone, but I had no idea the pain ran that deep. I want to know more. I want to dig deeper, yet I also know it’s not my story to dig into.
I’ve felt it anytime it came up in our conversations. He clams up. Shuts down, and so I change the subject, giving him the freedom to choose what and how he shares.
Oh, to be a fly on that booth right now and learn those secrets.
But I don’t even get a chance to glimpse their way before Grace drags me over to the bar where Hope is already sitting, chatting up the bartender, Matteo Loverson, who happens to be Willa’s son.
