Page 23 of Golden Hour

His hands grip my waist, lifting me so I can swivel to sit down. My breath lodges in my throat, and I don’t release it until I’m in my seat. His hands rip away immediately and do not linger. He climbs in next to me, and I smile.

“Thank you for taking me,” I say. “And carrying me. And waiting.”

“Of course.” He shoves his key in the ignition and freezes. “Interesting that you have a secret too.”

I nod, biting my lip. More and more secrets are being added every day.

One being that no matter how mean he is, I still want to be near him.

9

Jackson

“You seem weird. Weirder than usual,” I say, popping a chip in my mouth as I study my brother. Reid has been hitting the alcohol harder than I have been. We’re sitting on my back porch overlooking my parents’ backyard with beers, and Reid’s shoulders haven’t dropped he’s so tense. We ate dinner, and now we’re just watching the fireflies.

“It’s just…you know Annie’s friend? Whitney? We saw each other at the market.”

I lift my eyebrow as my brother takes another gulp. Reid attended college in San Diego and met Whitney in a creative writing class. According to Reid, he critiqued one of her stories, unintentionally started a war with her, and now she hates him forever.

I saw Whitney once at a distance when Annie brought her into the brewery. Beautiful woman, long dark hair, ample curves. Not really my type, but I know my brother and he wants her. Bad. I love when the universe taunts my even-keeled, uptight brother. It’s hilarious.

“Did you flirt with her?”

“No, the opposite. She started arguing with me and I got nervous, so I threw eggs at her. Got her shoes. They were expensive too.” Reid stares off into space, taking a sip of his beer.

“You have quite the way with the ladies.”

Reid takes an angry swig.

“Just avoid her.”

“I try to, but she’severywhere.I saw her at the library, now the market. I know we live in a small town, but this is ridiculous.”

I take a sip of my beer, and I know I can’t say anything about Shiloh. If my family huffs one ounce of joy from me, their eyes get soft, and there it is again. The pity I hate.

They know about our trip to urgent care, but they don’t know everything. How I picked her up, how light she was in my arms, how close her breath was to mingling to mine. How I thought about kissing her, multiple times.

I shouldn’t feel like this. Shiloh is too happy, too positive. Tooyoung. She’s ten years younger than me, with an innocence I find refreshing, but she’s still an employee. It’s inappropriate.

Not to mention that I still haven’t said I’m sorry. A normal person would’ve choked out an apology to the nicest person he’s ever come across, but the words caught in my throat, even as she apologized for things she didn’t need to feel sorry for. I should’ve laughed at the decorations like a normal person and let it go. I didn’t, and now it’s even more awkward.

“You should’ve come to the end-of-the-season party. It was fun,” Reid says.

I shake my head. “My night of Scotch and British crime shows was far superior, thanks.”

“You could’ve hung out with me,” he adds.

“I was good right here. You should’ve ditched. I offered.”

“I need something stronger,” he says. “Can I get some Macallan?”

“Go for it.” He disappears inside, and I inspect my beer bottle. I usually guzzle booze until the edges of my life blur and the thoughts halt. Tonight is different. I’ve drunk only half the bottle in an hour. I guess this is what “pacing yourself” looks like.

Reid reappears, handing me a glass with one ice cube. I inhale its rich oak and vanilla scent. Heaven.

We both take a sip, and Reid stares into the darkness. “Mom worries about you. I worry about you.”

“Why is everyone so worried about me? I’m perfectly happy.” I adjust in my seat, the wicker groaning.

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