Page 54 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
Brynn meets my gaze, taking another deliberate breath before nodding. Then her eyes widen as if she’s just remembered something. She leans past me to see that Vivian is in the closed bathroom. “You never did tell me what’s going on between you and Van.”
“Not really much to say,” I hedge.
I’d been evasive when Noah asked me earlier this week as well. My week with Van looked very similar to when we were quarantined…but with kissing. I’ve spent a good part of this week actively tryingnotto think about what that means. Are we automatically in a relationship now? I hope not. There’s only so much of my prickly personality Van will tolerate before he comes to his senses. If we were in a real relationship and he decided I wasn’t enough…
I rub a knuckle between my brows to dissipate the painful thought.
Maybe we’re just roommates who kiss?
And roommateswho alsohappen to be legally married.
That’s got to be a thing, right? People have all sorts of weird situationships nowadays. There’s probably even an acronym for what we’re doing. I’m just not aware of it.
Brynn looks like she’s about to ask a follow-up question, but the bathroom door opens.
“Who wants rosé?” Vivan asks. “Finn found us anevening coordinator”—she gives finger quotes with a slight eye roll—“like he did in Vegas. Gabriel will drive us and take care of everything since Finn is out of town visiting his sister.”
And Gabriel will watch over Vivian—and the rest of us—like a hawk all night. For this town’s initial misgivings about Finn, he definitely takes care of those he loves. And honestly, it’s nice not having to worry about whether my drink has been messed with or have to shut down pickup attempts. In Vegas, Mateo kept the creepers away so we could enjoy the night life in its purest iteration, all-girl dance circles and telling other women how pretty they look in crowded bathrooms.
“That might be a good idea,” Brynn says, pulling a pink bottle out the fridge.
Vivian hops up on the counter, flashing us the bike shorts under her dress before leaning left to pluck three wine glasses from an open shelf.
“I thought Summer and Cade were also coming.”
“Cade has a family thing tonight.” Vivian pours one very full glass and extends it to me. “And Summer is meeting us there after her dinner plans with her friend, Kayla.”
I take a sip of the crisp wine. Hints of strawberries and citrus burst on my tongue. With Gabriel managing everything, I won’t have to stay as razor-focused as I usually do. Normally, I’d also be concerned about my female ‘friends’ waiting for me to slip up and take advantage. Grab some unflattering pictures. Wrangle sordid details out of me. Basically, get dirt that they could use to get ahead. But Brynn and Vivian aren’t trying to compete with me. I don’t fully understand it, but they seem to enjoy my company.
I swish a larger sip of wine around my tongue before slowly swallowing it. Brynn is trying something that’s clearly out of her comfort zone tonight. Over the summer, I watched Vivian grow from the town’s most shy member to someone who’s confidentlyherself. Maybe I can take my own step and let my guard down around these two.
Just a little.
Maybe.
My ears ring, and I can barely feel my toes, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face. I had no idea how much I needed a night like this. Vivian is unapologetically doing the sprinkler while Brynn nails the running man. Summer plugs her nose and mimics sinking underwater, and I try not to laugh. Six other women round out our circle in the middle of the packed dance floor as lights flash and the thick bassline rivals the beating of our own hearts.
Gabriel isn’t far off, purses hanging from his thick forearms. He’s a nice guy—married, three cute kids, former Navy Seal, and current “evening coordinator.” Though, I’m sure if I looked him up, his official title would be something in the vein of personal security. None of us have touched our purses since we’ve arrived, because in true billionaire fashion, Finn has taken care ofeverything.
A woman I don’t know enters the middle of the open circle, throwing a pretend fishing reel toward me. I wave her off, but she’s persistent, miming like I’m a stubborn swordfish caught on her line. Vivian’s fingers playfully push my back. Normally, this would cause me to freeze up, but her giggled encouragement reminds me she doesn’t mean any harm.
It’s been a slow progression of moments like this all night. Me voicing my opinion in the car on the way here instead of staying silent. Me not holding back when I want to smile or chuckle. Meengaging Summer in conversation when she joined us instead of remaining detached.
The chorus ofwooosthat go up from our little crowd as I relent would rival any sports bar during the Super Bowl. The woman bows out, giving me the center spot. I’m not unaccustomed to being in the spotlight, and I can execute choreography with the best of them, but that’s not what this is about. This night is about freedom and silliness and having a little fun with friends.
It’s about finally letting go.
For once, I don’t overthink it. I bend at the waist, make my elbows into perfect ninety-degree angles, and robot like my life depends on it.
Because I think on some level, it might.
We dance for hours. Brynn’s espresso martinis help her keep up with her night-owl sister, but as we round 1 a.m., even I’m beginning to lose luster. Summer has already slipped away, needing to drive her car back to Wilks Beach. I’m just about to rein Vivian in when a Raven Sacaria song comes on. Since there’ll be no leaving until the songstress finishes her power ballad, I find a spot next to Gabriel as Vivian tugs her sister back to the dance floor.
“After this song, I think we should head out,” I tell him.
He nods, keeping his gaze on both women. “Sounds good.”
When Vivian almost lurches to the side after trying to complete a spin, I wince. “You’ve got water bottles in your car, right?”
